


Layered Persona

by CoopPenny



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Newt Scamander, Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, F/M, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Manipulative Gellert Grindelwald, Muggle Animals, Newt Scamander's Suitcase, Not Canon Compliant - Movie 2: Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald, Oblivious Newt, Original Percival Graves is Bad at Feelings, Overprotective Theseus Scamander, Post-Movie 1: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Scars, Smitten Original Percival Graves, magical beasts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25571683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoopPenny/pseuds/CoopPenny
Summary: Not many would look at Newt and see him as any sort of threat, they would see him as someone that was a bit of an airhead, that he was shy, awkward and hardly a blip on the danger metre. Little did anyone know, but a select few, just how different Newt really was to those views.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald (past) (hinted), Jacob Kowalski & Newt Scamander, Newt Scamander & Newt Scamander's Magical Beasts, Newt Scamander & Theseus Scamander, Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander, Queenie Goldstein & Newt Scamander, Queenie Goldstein/Jacob Kowalski, Tina Goldstein & Newt Scamander
Comments: 13
Kudos: 623





	1. Book delivery

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write a Percival/Newt story and this was the result of those wants.

Admittedly, Newt was nervous about being in the large city once again.

Newt and cities never mixed in all honesty. The magizoologist could survive and thrive in the wilds of Africa, or in the thicket of a number of rainforests, or even in the sweeping long grass of fields surrounded by woodlands. What Newt couldn’t deal with was cities. It was the hustle and bustle that made him twitchy, the many, many strange people who were forced to rub against him as he filtered through the masses of crowds, and the odd sounds that he was barely accommodated with, much too used to the noises of animals and such to be comfortable hearing the constant murmur of voices around him and the persistent sounds of drills and such from near-by construction.

No. Cities and Newt didn’t do well together. The last time he was in this particular city being a leading example - especially with him almost being sentenced to death by a dark lord in disguise…

But Newt could overcome his skittishness and background fear of the large city for his friends. He’d made a promise and he had every intention of keeping it. With his book in hand, Newt would see his American friends again and his nervousness of the city would melt away.

As he looked to the city from across the waters, leaning slightly over the low rail of the gently rocking ship with his case firmly in hand, soft green eyes intensely scanning over the points of the many, many tall buildings that made up this particular city, as his tangled hair fanned and shifted like the ever moving waters in the teasing breeze. Newt could sense that this visit to New York wouldn’t be so disastrous this time round, but that still didn’t stop his flutter of nerves that crawled against his skin like the caress of a lightning spell. That particular comparison only had Newt thinking of Grindelwald and the pain Newt felt at this lightning curses, which had made Newt’s muscles spasm and contract uncontrollably as he writhed in pain, unable to even scream, between the thick metal train rails that only served to maximise the pain of the spell. Gellert Grindelwald was captured and is now in a very secure prison, but that didn’t stop Newt from wanting to jump the boat’s rail and swim back to England to get as far away from the dark lord as possible. The thought made Newt twitch in a want to make it a reality, but he bit the inside of his cheek and brought his case closer to his person as he forced himself to keep his feet firmly on the ground and turned his mind to other, more lighter subjects.

While it would be enjoyable to see his friends again (his only friends), Newt had a second agenda that he had every intention of fulfilling. After a few weeks of staying with the girls and discreetly popping in on Jacob and his bakery, Newt was going to head off South and cross the boarders into South America to explore the Amazon a little bit more than he had last time...

The ship horn blew, startling Newt from his deep thoughts that were starting to delve into the types of animals that were local to the South American region of the world. Blinking dazed eyes back to reality, Newt couldn’t resist a small fond crinkle in the corner of his eye as his mouth twitched with subtle eagerness when he saw that the passenger ship was near to docking.

Now, all he had to do was get through customs and then head off to the MACUSA headquarters, Woolworth Building, get his wand permit (which he didn’t owl ahead of his arrival, in order to surprise the girls), greet Queenie and Tina and then hand them his book.

Hopefully, he’d be able to make the short journey without causing absolute pandemonium in New York this time round. Merlin, he hoped he didn’t cause pandemonium this time round…

* * *

“Newt!”

The shout came loud and close as soon as Newt entered the magical congress building, startling him out of his ducked-head determination to lift it in time to see a head a short, curly blonde hair before a weight barrelled into him. Slim arms wrapped around his awkward form in a strong and welcoming hug, the scent on the body was the familiar flowery fragrance of Queenie mixed with the overly surgery, but pleasant, scent of sweets and pastries - a scent that Newt easily recognised as Jacob. When the two parted, Newt held a knowing glint in his eyes as he looked down at the quirky legilimen, the blonde pulling away with a small bite to her lip and an expression like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she quietly pleaded him, blue eyes bright and begging as she looked up at him, “Please.”

Honestly, the witch didn’t even need to beg for his silence, as he would gladly keep her secret. He’d made his stance about the American laws to keep Magical kind and Non-Magical kind separate very clear when he was in New York the first time. Besides, Queenie and Jacob were his friends, there was no way he was going to throw them under the Knight Bus…

Before Newt could even open his mouth to assure the woman, she sent him a blinding grin and stood to her tip-toes in order to plant a small kiss to his cheek, eyes shining with happiness at his acceptance as she practically squealed, “Thanks, honey!” obviously having heard his thoughts before he was able to put them into words.

“I told you not to read my mind,” he stared down at her, lips pursed with displeasure.

“Sorry, Sweetie,” she shrugged, not looking apologetic in the least as she hopped away from him, Newt following after her without prompt, “You just think so loud sometimes,” she slowed her pace a bit until Newt had caught up to her side before sliding her arm through his so that they could walk together. Queenie was still leading him as she subtly tugged him this way and that to manoeuvre around the crowds of people until they got to the lift, where the same House Elf from last time stood. “Hey, Red,” the blonde chirped, the old elf managing a small smile for the bright witch before it fell in his usual old and grumpy demeanour.

“Where to Ms. Queenie?” he questioned as he placed his hand on the lever in preparation, his eyes scanning over Newt with an air of familiarity before dismissing him completely.

“Auror department, please.” she chimed, eager to see her sister on any given occasion.

The elf only nodded as he pulled the lever and the lift slowly started to close and ascend to the higher levels of the Woolworth Building. Seconds later, the pair was stepping off of the lift, Newt giving a quiet nod of thanks to the elf before he turned his attention to the wide floor, keeping up with Queenie’s excited rush with his longer stride. The Auror department was large and bright compared to the basement level of wand permits that Tina had been the last time he was there. Wide windows let in natural light that brightened the large space in a friendly atmosphere that was strikingly different from Newt’s brother’s office, which was dark and intimidating. Newt preferred the MACUSA’s Auror’s office to the Ministry of Magic’s, especially with the big, open desks that had low walls to separate the officers stations than the high, blocked off individual offices of the MoM, and the odds and ends that seemed to float about the office from paperwork floating to different desks, to a magically thrown rubber band ball that a few Aurors were subtly playing with about the office. The atmosphere was friendly and, while the job of Auror was intimidating in title alone it didn’t reflect in the surrounding Wizards and Witches, who seemed open and caring to the public rather than grim faced, silent and glaring like the Aurors that surrounded the MoM back home. As Newt ducked under a few paper airplanes that where floating towards a few desks, he couldn’t help but solidify his preference.

“Tina!” Queenie shouted, not drawing any attention from the surrounding desks at all, which showed how common Queenie’s presence on this floor was, “Look who I found!” she nearly squealed as she grabbed Newt’s blue clad arm and started to practically drag him toward’s Tina’s desk.

When the female Auror looked up from her paperwork, her dark eyes brightened when they landed on Newt, smile stretching over her small, round face in clear happiness. But the happiness didn’t seem to last as her dark eyes landed on Newt’s case (clasp newly fixed since his last departure) and her smile fell to replace with something akin to dread mixed in with exasperation before settling on something like grim acceptance, as if accepting her fate of getting a major headache.

“Newt,” she started as she stood up from her desk, eyes flickering to his case and then back to him, “Not that I’m not happy to see you and I think your creatures are very special, but you can’t come to America with that case!” she finished with a low hiss as she seized his wrist and pulled him further into her open office, the elbow height walls instantly rising only just high enough to hide the top of Newt’s nest of hair, “Do you remember what Madam President said to you?” she questioned lowly.

“Yes,” he started, remembering the event perfectly. He remembered thinking that the woman had been nice to grant him the boon of leaving the country without any further complications for his help, knowing full well that other countries would have still persecuted him for the peaceful creatures within his case - which was one of the many reasons why Newt was banned from Australia. “But I have permits for them.” he stated with a small smile, it had been pesky business, but he’d gone through the entire process for a year-long permit for his creatures in the States - not that he needed that long, but still.

Tina, on the other hand, only raised an unimpressed eyebrow, a look of suspicion and disbelief on her features. It was almost the exact mirror image that Theseus always gave Newt when he didn’t believe him, which was a disturbing thought in and of itself. Silently, Newt made a mental note to never let Tina and Theseus meet - Newt had a feeling that the American Auror would tell his overbearing brother everything that Newt had left out of his letters when he told him about his first trip to the States. At Queenie’s soft laughter, Newt gave a small, but ineffective, glare at the blonde, who’s only response was to grin wider at him, mirth sparking in her brightly coloured eyes.

Turning back to Tina, Newt tried to twist his expression into something that was slightly more innocent, but with the resulting arm-crossing, he didn’t think it worked very well, “Even the Nundu?” she questioned.

At this, Newt winced.

“Damnit, Newt!” Tina hissed, looking like she was about to spit venom through her teeth - which reminded him that he needed to check on his runespoor. “You can’t bring creatures like that into the country without a permit - or several for that matter!” she flapped her arms at him, her dark green with dark blue velvet interior jacket of choice for the day moving with her arms, making him think of his Swooping Evil, Butters, who was safely tucked in his sleeve, where he often refused to vacate, much like Pickett who occupied his breast pocket.

“W-Well,” he started, despite knowing that whatever he said now would not save him from the woman’s wrath, “I tried to get permits for all of them, but after they nearly took the mooncalves away from me,” the nicest and the least dangerous beasts in his case, “I didn’t think they’d let me out of the building if they found out I had a Nundu.” Nancy wasn’t even the most ‘dangerous' of his creatures and he didn’t want to risk them getting hurt, so he failed to mention them in his list of needed permits.

Tina just stood there and stared at him for a few moments, a blank look on her face as a range of indecipherable emotions and thoughts ran through her dark eyes. Then she blinked and the spell she was under was broken. Within seconds, the woman was on him, a thick wad of paper, thankfully not too thick to actually hurt, in hand as she whacked him over the head and started to hit him with the thick file wherever she could reach, as Newt tried to shy away from her furious attack, all while she hissed at him in low spitting tones, “So you decide to bring them anyways?! What the _hell_ were you thinking, Newt?! You could get thrown in jail! _Again_!” she hit him with the file once more, as she glared heatedly up at his sheepish expression. “Why are you even here?” she questioned.

“Ah,” Newt brightened at the reminder of his primary goal, before setting down his case and searching the side pockets of his coat. Surprisingly, there were a lot of things in his many pockets that he barely remembered putting there. In his upper left inner pocket was a collection of grubs and bugs that he kept close at hand for Pickett to snack on when he was bored or hungry; in his left middle inner pocket he had a collection of gold coins for the Niffler to steal when she got bored; in a pocket just below that, there was a collection of small muggle birds - that he’d saved from a nest after a few muggle children had killed the mother before he could stop them - the three babies chirped and flew out of their pocket-home and into his hair, where they settled down immediately; there were a few worms in one of his top pockets, which he instantly gave to the happy birds in his hair. Finally, he got to the desired pocket, which was the right pocket next to his lower ribcage, and pulled out a book, “I’ve finally got my book published and wanted to give it to you in person,” he presented his work, smiling with pride when Tina took the book and read the title, a smile twitching at her lips as pride shined in her eyes, “It’s been a real hit so far and a few schools are even considering adding it to their required reading.” he smiled, happy that his long years of hard work was so successful.

He hoped that her and Queenie would be able to read a few chapters, before he had to leave again.

“You’re leaving?” Queenie spoke up and Newt couldn’t find it in himself to reprimand her for reading his mind (once again) at the sight of how sad she looked about the Magizoologist leaving the sisters so soon.

“I was hoping to visit a few friends in South America,” Newt smiled, thinking of the friendly basilisk that he’d affectionately called Jessica, and a few werewolf tribes that he sometimes liked to write to, “I wasn’t planning to stay long, so I guess the permits wont be that important.” he shrugged, but Tina seemed to be of a different opinion with the deadpanned stare she was giving him.

“That’s not how the law works, Newt!” Tina hissed, back to her previous irritation with Newt’s offhanded comment.

“I’ll be out of your hair within a day, promise.” he bargained.

“This isn’t a negotiation Newt!” Tina shook her head, “Your creatures need permits to be here. _All of them_! Especially the potentially dangerous ones that you’re so keen to cart around! And I know they’re not dangerous if unprovoked, but a lot of witches and wizards haven’t read your book, yet, and _will_ attack if they see a nundu!” she finished quickly.

“Nancy,” he corrected her, but ducked his head when it only granted him a heated glare from the fierce Auror.

“Mr. Scamander,” a cool, crisp and deep voice interrupted any further discussion as both Newt, Tina and Queenie whipped around to stare at the Director of Magical Security with round eyes. The wizard standing before the three of them was a wall of a man, in Newt’s opinion, his clothing, dark, sharp and professional, even if he was just in his white shirt and black silk vest, with a heavy set of brows that furrowed heavily over his intensely dark eyes, jaw square and lips set in a neutral expression. The man’s hair was different than Newt remembered Grindelwald wearing it; it was still slicked back and black with greying sides, but it was combed a little to the left, a few dark strands falling on his forehead. Newt had never met the man before, but he could instantly see the differences between him and Grindelwald’s impersonation, just by the way he held himself, the small twitch of his wrist and the way he was looking between the three of them. This man was definitely the man Newt always envisioned when Theseus declared his high praises of the man he’d met during the war.

“Mr. Graves,” Newt nodded respectfully, one of the birds leaving his hair to perch on the soft material of his shoulder, something which Graves noted with barely a twitch of his eyebrow, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, but I’m afraid I must be off now!” he jerkily nodded, eyes focused on the man’s dark, silk tie, as he moved passed the intimidating man.

“Mr. Scamander,” Grave stated once again, the tone in his voice making Newt freeze on the spot after only achieving a few hurried steps. Slowly Newt turned around, head ducked and eyes focused on the fold of the man’s collar as his heart felt like it was seconds away from thumping through his ribcage. For some reason, Newt felt more nervous than ever as he felt the weight of those dark eyes settled solely on Newt’s slightly hunched and twitchy form. There was a heavy silence between them, one that felt suffocating in the suddenly very quiet Auror office, “My office, Mr. Scamander.” Graves intoned as he fluidly moved his arm to gesture to the white door at the end of the room, the only office that was completely blocked off from the rest, except from a large window that Newt couldn’t see properly through.

Briefly, Newt considered just apparating out of there, which would break the anti-apparition wards if he pushed hard enough, but he didn’t feel like being a wanted man in America a second time. But it was a solid plan B.

With only a moment more of hesitation, Newt followed the man’s gesture and walked into his office, feeling like he was marching towards his death, with the Head Auror following close behind, instantly closing and locking the door before he moved passed Newt to sit behind his large dark oaken desk. Silently, he gestured for Newt to take up the only other chair in the room, which was in front of the desk and the expectantly waiting Director of Magical Security.

Reluctantly, Newt did as commanded.

This type of situation wasn’t foreign to Newt, as much as he tries to avoid them…

In Newt’s line of work - which was more like Newt literally walking the line of legal and illegal and more often than not toeing the line into illegal - he was constantly in some sort of trouble with the law enforcers of whatever country he was in. Newt’s work had landed him in more trouble than he would ever be willing to admit to his brother, but he’d often managed to get out of the situation without much fanfare in the end, much like his first time in New York - that had not been the first time he’d been threatened with jail or the death sentence.

“How many more animals do you need permits for?” Graves asked, shocking Newt out of his head with the odd question (usually, in these situations, no questions were asked, just accusations) which had Newt reeling enough for Graves to go on without interruption, “I’ll give you the permits.” he stated as a sheet of paper and a quill floated from one of his higher shelves, the word ‘PERMIT’ printed in big, clear letters at the top of the official-looking parchment.

“I-I beg your pardon?”

“I said, I’ll give you the permits,” the Auror repeated patiently as he looked at Newt, with dark eyes filled with sincerity, Newt’s own flighty eyes flickering up to meet his gaze every now and then, wondering if this was some sort of trick. There was a drawn out silence between the two with the only sound between them being the light scratching of the self-inking quill on thick parchment. “I just need the list of creatures that you need permits for and then we can get this signed and sorted.” the Director spoke up as he looked up at Newt from what he was writing.

“Why are you doing this?” Newt asked, brows drawn together in confusion as he watched the stiff line of the man’s right shoulder (he noticed that one was more rigid than the other, meaning that the stiffer one Newt was looking at suffered from an old wound that still pained the Director every now and again), “Helping me, I mean.” he rushed to add on in a quiet, timid voice, head ducking slightly.

“You helped capture Grindelwald,” Graves stated, so bluntly that Newt’s eyes shot up to hold contact with the man’s dark ones for more than a few seconds this time, “Without your input, I doubt that anyone would have figured out that Grindelwald was impersonating me. If what I’m told is correct, you were the first one to discover that I was being impersonated and that it was one of your creatures that helped to restrain him. For that, I owe you a debt and I don’t think taking your creatures away from you is a good start to repay that debt,” he stated, tone hard and serious with his eyes trained on Newt as the magizoologist blushed to the roots of his hair at the high and genuine praise from the man. Then the man started, a slight hesitation before he asked what he wanted, “How did you know he was an imposter?” he questioned, more openly curious than the usual hard interrogation tactic that Newt was used to.

“My brother, Theseus told me about you,” Newt started, eyes focused intently on the other man’s dark brown orbs, for once not flicking away in every which direction, “When I met you, or rather Grindelwald, nothing about him alined with what my brother described you as. But then I shrugged that off to people changing over time and such,” Newt gave a small one shoulder shrug, “I figured it out in the end when Grindelwald started preaching in the subway to the President and the Aurors about his views. I’ve accidentally walked into a few of his… preaches while I was travelling around,” following dangerous creature trafficking and abusing Wizards and Witches to save said creatures, “And I recognised the way he was talking and that’s when I knew.” Newt shrugged again.

“You’ve seen him before?” The head Auror blurted out with a startled expression, “When? Where?”

“I’ve only seen him twice before, but was always able to hide in the crowds before I could stand out to anyone,” Newt explained, “I can’t remember exactly when, but I remember that I saw him once in Berlin and the other time in Russia. Completely by accident, I assure you. I contacted my brother on both counts, but when they arrived, it was always too late to grab anyone important.” he explained. That had been one of the first times that the Ministry had tried to get Newt to sign up as an Auror of some sort, but he’d refused them time and time again to the point where they’d gotten cold with Newt.

“How can you have run into him by accident?” Graves asked, sounding completely confused and, by all intents and purposes, exasperated.

“W-Well,” Newt started, “I had heard of this hippogriff trafficking group that was going to happen one night and I followed one of the lead members, but he happened to go to one of Grindelwald’s speeches before I followed them to the deal and saved the hippogriffs afterwards. The other time was much the same was the first, except for that they were dealing with occamy eggs and were going to kill them in order to take the silver shells. I managed to steal them away before any of them could be killed.” Newt stated, pride shining in his tone as he remembered those victories, the occamies growing well in his case and the herd of hippogriffs galloping and flying happily in the open grassy plane he’d made at his home in England, his trusty assistant taking care of them as he travelled to New York.

“Of course,” Graves nodded, his face fixed in a stoic expression while his dark eyes battled with disbelief, complete exasperation and something else, like begrudging curiosity. He then settled back in his chair, a patient and expectant expression upon his face as he picked up his quill once more, “Now, I need a list of those creatures, Mr. Scamander, if you would, please.” he asked politely.

A few hours later and Newt was sure that Mr. Graves - Percival, the man had asked Newt to call him - was going to go home with a headache. There had been so much paperwork for so many of the creatures in Newt’s case that were considered ‘dangerous’ that it was ridiculous. Newt had barely gotten a quarter of the permits he needed for all the creatures inside the case back in England, so it had been a long list of creatures for the Head Auror to write down and with each beast that Newt named the man’s eyebrows climbed higher and higher on his forehead - they were nearly acquainted with his hairline when Newt told the man of the creatures that were listed as ‘extinct’ in most government records…

In the end, Newt walked out of the man’s office with all the permits he needed to not, technically, be classed as a criminal on American soil, happy as he could be. Percival was trailing behind him, looking like he wanted to go home and sleep after the ridiculous amount of permits that he’d just had to write up for the seemingly soft and timid man before him. Graves said ‘seemingly’ because no man, who was as much as a wallflower as Newt acted, could ever handle all of those dangerous beasts that he kept in such an innocent-looking container…

* * *

Due to it being in the middle of the day, Tina still had to stay at work - especially with how important her duty was - while Queenie could book off early due to her being a secretary. Swiftly, Queenie swept Newt out of the building, talking a hundred miles a minute as she practically dragged him out, speeding pass the staring witches, wizards and muggles when they hit the street. Newt had no choice to follow the legilimen as she lead him around New York, turning down this alley way and that street at seemingly random times as she told him what had happened in the last few months that he’d been away from them, including how they found the real Percival Graves.

“Oh, Honey,” Queenie started to explain, tone mournful and sympathetic, “It was awful. He’s always been a nice man, if a bit strict and reserved, so when the Aurors and Madam President found him, it was quite a relief to everyone… But you should have seen him, Newt,” she stopped suddenly, head down and eyes distant as she recalled the event from her own memory, “He looked like a corpse when they found him, covered in blood, bruised, cold, pale… They were shocked then when they found out he was still alive. He was so… quiet, for months, but I could _hear_ him, Newt, and he suffered so bad,” tears came to the witch’s eyes as she turned to face the Brit. Newt didn’t hesitate a second to give his friend the comfort she needed, despite how odd it felt to him, and his hug was received immediately as she buried her shallow breaths and half-choked sobs into the soft blue material of his jacket, clinging to him, “He tortured him, Newt! He tortured him for information that Mr Graves wouldn’t give and then tore through his mental shields to get the information by force. I can’t believe how _painful_ it was… _How torturous_ … And when Mr. Graves had nothing left to give, he blocked his magic and left him in that place with a clump of hair in his pocket,” she leaned back from Newt, looking up at him with sorrowful eyes tears, clumping in her dark eyelashes before they fell down her cheeks, “How can Grindelwald say he’s fighting for us when he does something like that to his own kind? How can he call that ‘the greater good’?” she questioned, confused and upset, and Newt was scared that she was waiting for him to answer when he had no clue what to say.

It was times like those that Newt left like muggles and magical people were no different from each other whatsoever. Sure, they both had a different way of life, different capabilities and different views of what they would deem to be ‘impossible’. But when it came down to the ugly side of it, the two species were not different at all. Both would kill if they found the cause worthy enough, both would attack out of misunderstanding or ignorance, both were driven to action by what they thought was superior and inferior, both were obsessed with labelling everyone and everything into neat orderly packages of society, wanting to remove anything that didn’t fit into those perfect classifications. Muggle and magical? There was no difference in Newt’s eyes. He spoke from experience in this observation, for most of the scars on his body had been received from both muggle and magical people alike more than from his creatures. The only answer Newt could ever have for Queenie was that Grindelwald was human and humans, as a rule, were vicious and merciless if and when it suited them…

Queenie’s arms tightened around Newt’s shoulders and soon, she was releasing him from her vice-like hold. A subtle use of magic, cleared and redid her makeup that had been ruined by her rush of tears, as she pulled away. A weak smile was on her lips, which seemed to grow in confidence in mere seconds, before she grabbed his arm again and started to lead them down the streets and as Newt looked at the surroundings, he began to recognise the area.

“Are we going to visit Jacob?” Newt asked, an eager look in his eyes at the thought of seeing his friend again, even if the man wouldn’t remember him.

“Yep!” the blonde popped her ‘p’ in her excitement, bright eyes turning to Newt as she grinned widely, “You should see what he’s done with his bakery. I think you’re gonna like it.” she laughed, her joy sounding like small bells chiming together.

As the turned down the next street, Newt’s eyes were almost immediately drawn to a small, brightly coloured store, with a large open window. The store stood out from its bleak surroundings, a dash of vivid colour in an otherwise greyscale world and Newt instantly knew that this was Jacob’s bakery - a very pleasant and popular-looking one at that. Pride swelled in Newt’s chest at his friend achieving his dream and he knew then that giving the open-minded muggle a case of hatched occamy eggs was the right thing to do.

When Newt entered the shop, Queenie finally released him from her tight hold and his eyes only widened further with shock. Mouth open with quiet wonder, Newt slowly twirled around as he took in the different sweets and pastries that were all in the different shapes and forms of his magical creatures, from his Demiguise to his Erumpent, all masterfully and accurately shaped. It was wonderful; brilliant, even. But then, Newt’s brows gained a small crease of confusion when he remembered that Jacob was supposed to be obliviated and shouldn't have been able to recall flashes of his creatures, let alone recreate them into pastries…

“Queenie!” a familiar deep voice interrupted Newt’s inner thoughts, his eyes focusing on the scene of Jacob Kowalski opening his arms just fast enough to catch a squealing Queenie Goldstein who had launched herself at the muggle baker, both of them giving large smiles of happiness. Then the American’s dark eyes shifted to Newt and the Magizoologist was surprised when he saw the flashes of surprise and recognition that soon resulted in the joy that was reflected in the man’s smile when he faced Newt. “Newt!” he smiled broadly, Queenie moving aside so that Jacob could go to his wizard friend and envelope him in a firm and loving hug that nearly swept the green-eyed man off the floor, “I’ve missed ya, pal!” he squeezed Newt once more and Newt couldn’t help but awkwardly hug the man back, far too shocked to do anything else.

“But, how-“ Newt started, looking from the happy muggle to the beaming witch. He wondered if she’d had some kind of hand in this phenomenon.

Surprisingly, Jacob was the one to answer, his tone nonchalant and happy, “Well, your potion was to remove bad memories. I didn’t have many bad memories about what happened. All that was needed was for Queenie to kick start a few memories before I got them all back,” he shrugged, as if it was a ‘no biggie’ situation, “Even before Queenie came along, I had dreams, which kind of resulted in - well - this.” he gestured to his bakery as a whole, all at once showing off all of his creations and Newt blinked at how much the simple explanation made sense and felt a swell of happiness at the idea that Jacob had found such love and inspiration from his creatures like no magical person, before Newt, ever had.

“That’s brilliant!” Newt smiled, eyes alight with his joy, which made the pair smile wider, “It’s good to see you, my friend.” Newt stated warmly as he patted Jacob’s shoulder, grunting slightly when Jacob gave him another quick, firm hug before pulling away to gravitate towards Queenie again. As the couple cuddled up together, seemingly fitting into one another like a puzzle piece, Newt had a sudden thought that had his happy smile twitching down as he crossed his arms in uncertainty, “Does Tina know?” A flash of hurt and regret crossed Queenie’s face, which was all the answer Newt needed, “Ah… To be honest, she has a point-“

“She may have a point, but I am not abandoning the love of my life so that I can look at him from a distance for the rest of my life,” Queenie stated firmly, her usually tranquil and calming expression and voice turning hard and as cold as ice, “She can preach all she wants about finding someone new, from _our_ world, but I know, from the bottom of my soul, from the magic in my veins, that no one is a better a fit for me than Jacob is. And I know that I will never, ever, be able to love another like I love him.” she squeezed the baker’s hand, Jacob looking slightly confused at her words, but supportive all the same as he squeezed her hand back.

Newt blinked and narrowed his eyes at them, expression blanking as he delved into one of his hidden talents that allowed him to see things that other wizards couldn’t usually see. The best Newt could describe it was that he was seeing auroras, or souls and general magic, from magical residue from old spells to wards that had been enforced and layered over many, many years. It was not a skill that Newt used often, mainly because it took a lot out of his magical reserves and involved prolonged staring, which he wasn’t comfortable with, but with the way Queenie was talking... After a few long seconds, Newt could see the familiar burst of colour before him that wasn’t there before, making the bright and vivid colours of Jacob’s bakery, mute and faded in comparison. As he stared at the couple, Newt could see it, clear as day. Queenie was all bright and soothing colours that Newt couldn’t really put a name to, her aura as open as her mind, as it stretched and faded into her surroundings rather than the contained and reserved aura of a normal magical being. Jacob was normal, his aura a little plainer with a lack of magical talent, but it had shades of old familial magic, which identified Jacob as a squib, not a muggle - a surprising note. However, the fact that he was a squib would make perfect sense for the bond that he and Queenie were currently sharing: a thick band of aura so strong and intertwined, it was a shock that no other magical person had been able to sense it. A muggle would never have been able to achieve a magical bond as strong as the one Jacob shared with Queenie. The bond itself was rare and beautiful and it was a bond that Newt had only ever seen once before, which was a wrecked and severed bond that Albus Dumbledore held, the ends of the professor’s once strong bond was frayed and gnarled with burnt ends, the tip of it faded with dead magic, like a limb that had been cut off from its blood of circulation - it had been a wonder that his old professor hadn’t died instantly with that kind of morbid wound…

The Magizoologist blinked again, taking himself out of his trance. Newt nearly stumbled back when his energy suddenly left him and his face drained of blood, making him look ghosty white, when the sickness of magical exhaustion hit him with the force of a runaway erumpent.

“Newt!” the couple shouted, fumbling in concern and panic as they rushed towards him, gently taking his arms to support him properly as they lead him somewhere. Newt just concentrated on breathing through the sickness that lingered in the back of his throat, ignoring how a single tear slipped down his cheek, unbidden, and the feel of someone quickly wiping it away as they settled him in a chair.

When Newt came to, he found himself sitting in a very comfortable chair that Queenie must have conjured up and slowly munching on something sweet. With a brief look down at his hands, he saw that he was slowly chewing on a niffler pastry, and a steaming cup of tea had been placed beside him on a low table. Looking up, Newt smiled weakly at his two hovering friends, trying to reassure them, but he could tell by their unchanged expressions that he’d done anything but.

“Newt,” Jacob was the first to speak up, “What the hell just happened? You just zoned out on us and then you looked like you were about to faint!”

“I was just checking something…” Newt trailed off, thinking of what he’d just seen through, what Dumbledore had called, his ‘Sense’.

“Honey,” Queenie started, tone confused and unsure, “What’s a Sense?”

Sighing deeply, Newt looked between the two and swallowed more of the sweet pastry before he answered, “I have a magical talent to see magic and auras… It’s not something I use often, as it doesn’t have a very nice short term effect on me - as you’ve just seen. I think I understand why you two are so drawn together and why you, Jacob, remembered so much when nothing should have been clear to you other than a few flashes of memory.”

“What?” “What do you mean?” they asked almost simultaneously.

“You’re soulmates,” Newt answered them plainly, “And Jacob isn’t a muggle, he’s a squib - or in relation to a squib. One or the other.”

“What- how-“ Jacob started, dark eyes wide.

“A soulmate bond wouldn’t be able to manifest as strongly as yours has if you were just a muggle,” Newt explained further, face straight and serious to portray that he wasn’t joking in the slightest, “I can see magic in your aura, though it’s faded and inaccessible to you. And due to that soulmate bond... if the MACUSA or the Ministry were to try and separate you and sever the bond… I don’t think either of you would be able to survive very long afterwards…”

“Oh…” was all the newly dubbed squib was able to utter, face pale with the idea of dying from their mere separation and his hand unconsciously sought after Queenie’s own, her own response also unconscious as they entwined their fingers together.

“Soulmates…” Queenie breathed, a glimmer in her eyes that made her look like all her childhood prayers had been answered, “But I thought…”

“That they were a myth?” Newt finished for her, a sigh in his voice as his eyes slipped closed and he gave a small nod, “They aren’t common and not all wizards can tell that it’s a soul bond until both are dead, but I can See it is very much a soul bond.” he stated as he looked at the place between them where the bond had been and now Newt was just able to see the faint outline without using his Sense.

“Oh, Mary Lewis!” Queenie cheered as she launched herself at Jacob once again, the squib stumbling back with surprise as he caught her in his arms, their kiss connecting in feverish happiness when Jacob caught up to Queenie’s reaction.

Newt smiled warmly at the loving display, but it soon became awkward when they showed no sign of stopping…

One loud fake cough later, Jacob and Queenie were stood before him, hands still connecting and not looking guilty in the least as they mumbled out their apologies through grinning faces.

“What do we do now?” Queenie asked, “Can we register or bring it up with the Congress to get the bond recognised?” she asked and despite working at the Woolworth Building, Queenie knew very little about the law of their people - other than the main ones that would keep her out of immediate trouble.

“My advise,” Newt started, gaining their full attention, “Ask Tina.”


	2. Odd behaviours

The resulting few days ended with Newt keeping well out the way as Queenie and Jacob registered as a soulmate couple, which was an old document still in circulation that basically said that in the case of the Magical and non-magical soul match, the No-maj would have to leave the muggle world behind and follow Wizarding law. It caused a huge uproar in the Woolworth Building, but after confirming that the pair were soulmates through their own means (which would have been life-threatening to both of them if they had not actually been soulmates) the commotion calmed down and Jacob and Queenie were happy to not have to hide their relationship at the cost of Jacob being obliviated and Queenie getting a one-way ticket to prison. It also helped that Newt convinced Jacob to do a blood ancestry and proved him to be a Squib on his mother’s side, which settled the more agitated of Wizards and Witches around them about a knowledgable No-maj.

Newt was happy for the pair and soon he and Jacob were stepping down into his case for feeding nearly every other day. Jacob was drinking up the sights of his creatures even more than before, his mind stuck on the new creations he’d be able to try in his popular bakery and the creatures were happy to see the kind muggle again. Newt couldn’t help but smile when the moonclaves practically frolicked to the American, staring up at the smiling man with big, blue, bulbous eyes as they chirped and preened for affection.

Newt was especially happy to have his only friend with him again.

A week went by in relative peace as Newt visited the girls and Jacob’s bakery every day, before retiring to his rented apartment that he was staying in for the week. His temporary landlord was grumpy and had a few snide remarks for Newt and his creatures, but the price was cheap and Newt had never listened to such insults thrown his way, anyway. Practically nothing went wrong! Even his niffler was on her best behaviour, though that could be due to the fact that she was nearing her birth after the year that she’d been pregnant with little kits - one of the reasons why she had been stealing things left and right on his last visit to New York.

What was odd, however, was the fact that Percival Graves nearly always made Newt’s acquaintance every day. At first, the Magizoologist had been worried that the Head Auror had been spying on Newt just waiting for him to slip up with his creatures so that he could take them away and exterminate them all - though Queenie assured him that Mr Graves wasn’t doing anything of the sort. Still, Newt was nervous and always ducked his head to hide his eyes with his fringe when the intimidating man was before him, dark, piercing eyes that were set solely on Newt as he asked the Brit how his day was and Newt stuttered the question back before parting with each other.

A few days into Newt and the Head Auror’s uncomfortable routine, the man suddenly did something odd and unexpected…

“Good day, Mr Graves,” Newt bobbed his head one last time, unconsciously lifting the case closer to his chest as his brights eyes settled on the other Wizard’s shoes, “I really must feed my creatures.”

“May I accompany you?” the man forcefully asked, the expression on his face pained as he winced around his words, practically forcing them out. Had Tina or Queenie forced the man to ask him? “To your case, I mean,” he quickly added on, “To feed your creatures.” Graves finished and his jaw visibly clenched as if waiting for an oncoming attack from the magizoologist.

“Honestly, Mr Graves,” Newt started, “If Tina or Queenie have put you up to this - you don’t need to force a connection of friendship between us-“

“I want to,” the man quickly interrupted, causing Newt to glance up at the man with shock-wide eyes, “I admit… I have little knowledge of magical creatures. It wasn’t an interest of mine at school, but I’ve read your book and was hoping to meet a few of them.” he explained with a small, barely-there smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“Oh…” was all Newt could think to say as he stared at the man with open surprise, before it melted away into a bright smile, “You read my book? How did you find it?”

There was a long pause as Graves just looked at Newt, face expressionless and dark eyes warring with emotions that Newt wouldn’t identify, before he seemed to come back to himself, “I thought it was very informative and interesting. When I was reading it, it almost seemed fictional with how you could calm and help the more dangerous creatures in your travels. Your personal anecdotes were also very intriguing - if slightly incriminating…” he trailed off and coughed neatly into his hand as to effectively cut himself off, before he gave a single firm nod, “In all, it was very well written. Well done, Mr Scamander.”

Suddenly, Newt felt like his entire face was on fire as he looked down at his shoes, heart beating furiously as his hands twitched in a nervous light. Never before had Newt been faced with such kind sincerity and very few people had ever expressed that to Newt. Only people that had ever expressed anything besides annoyance and rage towards the Magizoologist was his brother, Professor Dumbledore and Leta - before she’d gotten him expelled from school. It was completely unexpected coming from the Director of Magical Security, especially when Newt had always been on the receiving end of disdain when it came from a Witch or Wizard in such a high position.

Trying, in vain, to suppress the heat from his face, Newt jerkily nodded his head in thanks, before he cleared his throat to speak, “Er, wou-would you like to come down then?” he offered, still hesitant of the other man, despite his seemingly genuine interest in his creatures.

The Auror gave a firm nod, face set in a neutral expression as he looked intensely at Newt.

The stone-like expression was odd, but Newt waved that away to how serious the Wizard’s job was and how dangerous it was.

Without another word of pause, Newt quickly set down his case on the floor of the relatively secure room, and clicked it open, wasting absolutely no time in climbing down and disappearing into his sanctuary. A few seconds later, Graves climbed down as well, intense eyes scanning his small, chaotic workshop, not missing a thing before his eyes settled on Newt once again. Feeling more at ease in his own enclosure, Newt sent the man a small, shy smile as he swiftly hung up his blue jacket and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. Briefly, the end of his dragon tattoo’s tail swished past his forearm before disappearing past his sleeve once again; Newt looked up briefly to find that the Head Auror’s eyes had been trained on it for a moment longer before settling on Newt’s face once again, saying absolutely nothing about it. The man seemed stiff and tense, as if afraid to move in such a foreign environment that was such a contrast to his own of grand architecture and large contained spaces.

Deciding to ignore that fact for both their sakes, Newt gestured for the man to follow him before he stepped out into the rest of the case, shoulders loosening as he sighed deeply, now completely at ease in the presence of his creatures. A second after that thought, Newt was hit with an invisible force that had him laughing and stumbling forward to catch his feet before he could be completely taken down. Spinning on his heel to face the following American, Newt smiled widely at the man’s obvious confusion, from his deeply furrowed frown to his subtly tilt of his head.

“Dougle,” Newt gently chastised, though it was ruined by his radiant happiness.

Nonetheless, the Demiguese made himself visible, gentle hand coming to Newt’s hair to get the nesting baby birds to fly back to their own small nest that Newt had created for them weeks ago. Graves seemed surprised by the creature’s sudden appearance, before settling down to understanding and recognition as he took a step closer. Instantly, Dougles’ attention was drawn to the movement, big brown eyes staring up at Graves as he tightened his hold on Newt, his long fury arms wrapped around the Magizoologist’s shoulders.

Feeling the wariness from his most dependable creature, Newt curiously looked at Dougle’s face, just in time for the beast’s eyes to flash with that tell-tale beautiful blue colour that told Newt he was looking at the most likely outcome. When the Demiguese’s eyes faded back to brown, his arms tightened slightly more around Newt, large eyes slightly narrowed at the Director.

“Dougle,” Newt questioned, getting the creature’s attention easily, but at the Demiguese’s ‘innocent’ expression, Newt huffed and dismissed his attitude in favour of a polite introduction, “This is Mr Graves. Mr Graves, this is Dougle, he’s a Demiguese.”

“Pleased to meet you,” the Wizard gave a stiff nod of his head at the creature, who clearly didn’t like him, for reasons unknown. His attention then turned to Newt, “He can tell the future, can’t he?”

“Yes and no,” Newt shrugged, “Demiguese’s can foresee the most likely outcome of an event, usually they’re about more immediate or current events, but I think they can look further than a few minutes if they want to. Though, I can’t prove that, just yet.” Newt smiled as he absentmindedly stroked the long white fur, gently detangling the hair, while Dougle did the same for Newt. The scene put a small smile on Graves’ face and had him relax slightly from his stern posture.

Taking the Head Auror around his case was… an experience…

Newt didn’t know what was wrong with his creatures, but they seemed more protective of Newt than usual. Obviously, whenever Newt brought someone new into the case, they were wary of them, refusing to come closer, or acting more threatening than they ever would with Newt. The best-received person had been Jacob; not even Theseus had been so quickly and eagerly received. The worst person to be received would have to be Percival Graves…

It wasn’t like the Auror had gotten hurt, but it was clear that none of his creatures liked the Director, fury bristling, eyes narrowed and teeth bared. At first, Newt thought it was because they had seen Graves’ face before when Grindelwald had been masquerading in the other man’s skin but the more it happened, the more Newt started to think that wasn’t the case. His creatures greeted Newt with their usual enthusiasm before they seemed to manoeuvre him away from Graves as much as possible and when the Auror went to get closer, they were snap their jaws and growl or hiss at him.

Admittedly, however, it had been entertaining to watch when Nancy, Newt’s Nundu, had purred and preened under Newt’s extra attention, rubbing herself on Newt as to spread her scent into him and nearly jumping up to meet his hand. She had rubbed and pushed against Newt enough for the Magizoologist to lose his balance from the eagerness and strength of the creature, moving him deeper into her little enclosure. This wasn’t an odd occurrence for Newt. Usually, Nancy was happy to just be fed and then take the rest of the meat to her two cubs that Newt had helped birth inside his case (they were still very small and wouldn’t reach their proper seize until they reached five human years of age), but when she wanted extra attention, or the cubs were especially rowdy, she would push him to spend more time with her and the cubs. Newt guessed that Nancy saw him as her own cub, but grown-up and likely to visit than a human stranger. And, as if on cue, the cubs came and barrelled into Newt, knocking him down and pinning him to the floor as they lightly pawed at him, Newt laughing breathlessly as he gently played back by batting them on their noses and paws. Understandably, Mr Graves was slightly alarmed at the cubs’ playful attack on their human carer and as he went to step forward, to intervene, Nancy roared at the Auror and puffed out the poisonous spines along her neck. Everyone froze for a moment as Newt shouted at Graves to not move and step back. For a few seconds, Nancy stared down at the Director and Newt feared that he would have to intervene when she huffed and deflated her spines before going back to her three cubs.

When Newt was able to extract himself from Nancy, Tog and Clyde, he apologised extensively to the stoic Auror, who could only watch the interaction from afar. However, the incidents just kept on happening…

The murtlap rubbed itself over Newt’s gentle hand, before facing Graves and trying to bite his nose - Newt caught him just in time. The graphorns nearly trampled the poor man as they tried to get to Newt, circling around the Magizoologist to separate the two. The Bowtruckles threw sticks at him. One of the occamies grew to about ten feet long as she wrapped around securely around Newt, her coils gently holding him, and hissed and snapped her beak at the Auror whenever she deemed him too close to them - it took him an hour to soothe her into shrinking down to size and then let go from where she’d wrapped herself around his wrist. The doxies bit the Director. The diricrawls suddenly appeared in front of Graves while he was walking behind Newt, tripping the Director over before disappearing again. The marmite flashed dangerously and threatening as its tentacles wrapped more secure around Newt’s arms while he bottle fed it. Even the niffler didn’t like the visiting Wizard! She had taken one look at Graves before rubbing her beak along Newt’s fingers and then hissing at the Auror before burying herself back into her golden nest.

Later, after the feeding had been done and Newt had gotten through the confusing and odd behaviours of his beats, he’d accidentally dozed off in one of his comfortable, if a bit worn, chair in his work shack. Only for Newt to wake up with Dougle jumping on the Director and hitting him over the head before he gave the stunned Magizoologist a final comb of his hair and ran away! Dougle had never acted like that! He was the most docile and intelligent out of all of his creatures! So docile and intelligent, in fact, that Newt often forgot that Dougle was a creature and not a Wizard.

The only creatures that had taken to Graves were the mooncalves, who loved anyone who fed them, and the muggle birds, who had returned to nesting on Newt’s curly and, admittedly, bushy hair.

So, in all, it had not been a good experience for the Director. Newt only hoped that the man didn’t take his permits away from Newt and tell him that his creatures were a danger to the world.

Thankfully, the man had been more than understanding about it and had told Newt that maybe he wouldn’t try and visit his case any time soon in the future…

Honestly, Newt didn’t know why his creatures had all acted like they did! Sure, some of them had off days, but not all at once! It had been a stressful few hours and Newt was more than happy to go home that night and sleep it off before getting up to feed to creatures in the morning.

The week went by and concluded with Newt wanting to run from New York and Director Graves, especially with the way Newt constantly felt the way those dark eyes settled over him whenever he walked into the Woolworth Building. Newt felt slightly relieved to be leaving the city.

That was until one of his city contacts sent him a letter.

Despite being an awkward person among human beings, Newt seemed to be able to make a network of illegal contacts all around the world, at least one in every major city. Usually, they only contacted him about the creature trafficking rings if it started to affect their own business or city reputation, in which they employ Newt to rescue the creature - though if he accidentally destroys the entire ring in the process, there was no love lost for either Newt or his contact.

The letter told Newt of a cargo full of exotic animals that would be auctioned off to the highest bidder as either pets, criminal extortion, or potion and wand parts. It was a disgusting business and if his contact was right, then there should be around half a dozen rare creatures to be saved and it was arriving in a couple of hours.

Not willing to waste any more time, Newt aparated to the port under the cover of twilight darkness and shadows, casting silent spells to make sure that he wouldn’t be detected as he followed the faint feeling of magic that told him a group of Wizards and Witches were nearby. On deft feet and with movements that showed that Newt had done this kind of thing a dozen times, he followed the feel of magic with the dedication of a niffler tracking gold and soon heard voices.

“-cold, it’s unreal.” one, a male, complained.

“It’ll be here soon,” another, a female this time, snapped, “It was a little delayed with the storm, so it’ll be a few minutes late.”

“Yeah,” a different male agreed, “And the reward is worth the trial.”

“A trial?” the first male laughed, something bitter and condescending in his tone, “This is more than a trial. It’s stupid and tedious. We’re here to ferry the monsters, but I can count on two hands the amount of time I’ve been crapped on by a stupid bird of some sort. If anything, they should give us the largest cut.”

“That’s not how this works,” the female stated sternly, “And if you weren’t such a loud asshole, then maybe they wouldn’t purposefully crap on you.”

Newt peeked behind one of the large crates to get a good view of the group, just when another man, the last of the group of four to talk, finally spoke up, tone low and commanding, “Shut up. It’s here.” And then the group of traffickers were on high alert, wands out and faces grim as they watched something in the distance. “Come on.” the leader commanded and they all shot off into the darkness.

Well versed in the tracking of criminals and stealthy movement, Newt kept up with the group with no problem. However, as they moved around the final corner, Newt lost sight of them. Feeling like this was more and more of a trap, Newt timidly moved around the corner, eyes wide and alert as he tried to see where the group of criminals had gone. However, he was instantly distracted when he heard a small, miserable whimper. There, in the middle of the room, where a group of cages that chained down some of the most beautiful beasts that Newt had ever come across in his travels. There were a family of thestrals, two adults trying desperately to shield their young one while they were trapped in their too-small cage; what looked to be a very hurt pogrebin with cuts and bruises on his grey, bulbous head; a very injured hippogriff that was lifting her injured right foreleg; a chimera, the mighty lion head ducked and subdued with fear and injury within its cage. There were also three eggs within one of the cages, all different in colour and sizes.

Newt wasn’t able to guess what types of eggs they were when a colourful spell shot at him, clipping his ribs painfully. Warm blood instantly seeped down his side. Cutting hex. Then another spell hit his left arm and a pain, that Newt was all too used to, flared up as Newt grit his teeth to ward off a scream. Bone shattering hex. Before any more harmful spells could land on him, Newt dived behind a few crates that were beside the entrance - just in time to dodge the familiar green spell that would have instantly taken his life - ignoring the pain that ignited from his movements.

As soon as he was safely behind cover, the spellfire stopped and the room was silent was near-silent with only the animals whimpering with pain and fright and Newt’s pained panting breaths to fill the air. Breathing deeply, Newt tried to calm himself as he mentally prepared more spells to use against the others. It was four against one, but Newt had faced worse odds before.

“Newt Scamander,” the leader called out, making said Wizard jump at the unexpected use of his name, “Magizoologist, protector of beasts, the bane of animal traffickers and, more recently, the capture of Gellert Grindelwald. Tell me, how did a pathetic Wizard like you, defeat the dark lord?”

Newt kept silent, knowing that anything he said would most likely send the group into a murderous rage. These people were obviously Grindelwald followers and they didn’t seem to take kindly to the fact that Newt was the one that had ‘caught’ him; the man had been his own downfall and would have been captured with or without Newt’s input, but he suspected that these people didn’t care about that technicality.

Even without Newt’s response, the leader kept talking, a sneer in his tone as he carried on with the one-sided conversation, “You shouldn't have come here, Scamander. Tonight, you will die for your hand in the capture of the Dark Lord!” he finished and Newt felt a confringo on the crate he was hiding behind, only just managing to dive behind the next one, though not before he felt a pain in his leg where a large splinter had been lodged from the force of the curse. Just as a second curse landed on his hiding place, Newt silently aparated across the room where a high stack of boxes would hide him without even a pop - if there was one thing Newt was good at, it was aparition and he took full advantage of that.

“Where are you, coward?!” one of the other men shouted.

Ignoring the group that wanted to kill him, Newt pointed his wand at the creatures and whispered a protego so that none of them would be harmed by a misfire. However, once he’d done this, he’d given away his position and three dangerous spells were fired at him instantly, though they were avoided with a quick aparition once again. This also put him on the ground once more and with no protection.

In a blur of instinct and luck, Newt blocked all curses that came his way in quick succession, firing off his own in hopes to eliminate one from the total four. With a dodge and weave of his body, he managed to dodge a few spells before firing off a reducto that had one of the men being thrown into a brick wall, where he fell down unconscious. Using apariton, Newt appeared within arms reach of one of them and quickly pushed them in front of the spellfire meant for Newt before he aparated again.

However, his luck didn’t last for long as he caught a diffindo on his thigh that took his legs out from under him. Before he could think about getting up, the leader was suddenly there, standing over him as he painfully pressed his foot into Newt’s chest to keep him pinned as he grinned down at the hurt magizoologist, hate and twisted joy swirling in his eyes.

“Good riddance, Newton Scamander,” the leader sneered over his prone body as he raised his wand with purpose and hissed with pure hatred and malice, “Avada -“

“Stupify!”

Newt blinked and suddenly the leader wasn’t there and Newt was being magically dragged backwards until he was passed the entrance door. Hurt and dazed, Newt didn’t understand what was going on until someone was suddenly kneeling beside him, making the hurt Wizard flinch away from the suddenness and hiss from jolting his injuries. When his eyes focused more, Newt was surprised to see a face that he recognised, though it was pulled into an expression of worry and panic, which wasn’t something that Newt was used to seeing on the face.

“Mr Scamander! Newt!” the man yelled in his face, trying to get the magizoologist’s spotted attention, “Newt! Can you hear me?”

“Y-Yes,” he finally nodded, the movement jerky and uncertain but his response brought a look of open relief upon the Director’s face, “Mr Graves, what are you-“ Newt cut himself off with a squeak when he was suddenly lifted into the man’s arms, head and shoulders cradled to the Director’s broad shoulder and chest while his long legs dangled to the side. The surprising contact and the act of being carried made Newt clench the lapel of the man’s pristine jacket with his good hand as his face flushed deeply with mortification and embarrassment. “M-Mr Graves, let me-“ however the protest died in Newt’s throat when the Director sent the magizoologist a dark glare.

“Sir,” a voice called out to the Director, getting the man to move his glare from the blushing Hufflepuff to his Auror. Newt silently commended the man for not flinching under his dark glare. “All the members are rounded up. Mr Scamander had taken care of two of them before we came. What do you want us to do with the creatures?”

“No! Wait! They’re-“ Newt tried to wriggle out of the Director’s grip, wanting to go to the creatures that he still kept protected by his shielding spell.

He stopped when Graves tightened his hold on the injured Wizard, sending a stern glare to the man in his arms to keep still, which Newt found himself doing as he lowered his eyes submissively. Silently, Newt hoped that they wouldn’t hurt the creatures. While his book had been published, it would still take some time for the general Wizard populace to start taking his studies to heart and set up laws to protect them.

“Put them in Mr Scamander’s case,” Graves commanded, making Newt’s eyes widen in surprise as he looked up at the Director, “He can deal with them once he’s healed up. Bring in the traffickers and put them in separate interrogation rooms. Mr Scamander,” Newt jumped slightly when dark eyes suddenly focused on his own green, “Would you be willing to submit a pensive of the events of tonight?”

Shocked to silence, Newt gave a quick nod.

A few hours later, Newt was safely in his case as he tried to settle and heal the new creatures that he’d acquired. The family of thestrals were lead to the enclosure that held some other thestrals that Newt was still healing up; luckily they were not hurt too bad and Newt only had to heal a few cuts before sending them off. The hippogriff was calm and happy to be in Newt’s company after they had bowed to one another, the beast’s beak gently tweaking at his hair like she was trying to mother him as he wrapped her foot. After he healed up the pogrebin, the beast decided to curl up into a ball and become one with Newt’s rocky foundation, happy to not be seen for a while - Newt left him be, knowing that within a day or so the beast would be following him all around his case, as was his nature. The eggs Newt found made him want to dance with happiness, for two of them were dragon eggs, one a Common Welsh Green and the other a Ukrainian Ironbelly, that looked to be a few weeks away from hatching - Newt instantly created a furnace and placed the two eggs in the middle of the fire. The other egg was something that Newt could only theories about. The egg was a few shades smaller than the dragon eggs but was red with orange flecks, the embers of a fire. If Newt were to hazard a guess, he’d say that it was a phoenix egg, but those were incredibly rare and there hadn’t been a documented phoenix egg in a few hundred years. If this was indeed a phoenix egg… Newt couldn’t even begin to explain how excited that mere prospect made him!

“Come on, Mr Scamander,” Graves interrupted his train of thought as he secured the egg with wards and heating spells, an impatient edge to his tone, “Time for your injuries.”

At the reminder, Newt winced. Stubborn as Newt was, he’d refused to be properly healed and tended to before he sought after his new creatures, who were injured and unsettled. Newt was never comfortable with someone else healing him, he wasn’t comfortable with humans, in general, let alone touching him at his most weakened state. The healers were only able to get Newt to down a potion to fix the shattered bones in his arm before he refused anything else without seeing to his beasts first. Graves had allowed it as long as he could hover over the magizoologist while he worked and dealt with his wounds immediately after.

Sighing, Newt tucked away his wand at his hip-holster before he turned back to Graves with a nod before they walked back to his shack where all of his medical supplies were held. The shack was small and generally a chaotic mess, but it was familiar and comfortable enough for Newt to allow someone to check his wounds. As soon as the pair entered the building, Newt flicked his fingers and floated a few potions, pastes and bandages down from the cabinet that was too high for him to reach without harming his side more than he already had before he sat down in his chair.

There was an awkward silence between the two as Newt blushed fiercely and stubbornly looked away from the hovering man as he started to gently unbutton his vest and shirt. Carefully, Newt pried the fabric away, wincing when the dried blood of his wound caught and pulled with the shirt, making it bleed again, slowly exposing his chest, shoulders, then his arms when he finally managed to shrug the items off.

As he exposed his wound to the Auror, he also exposed everything else that none had ever seen besides his brother and their late parents. Although, Theseus hadn’t seen his little brother in any state of undress for years and Newt didn’t think he’d take it too well with how many additions that Newt had acquired over the years, namely his scars and tattoos.

His scars weren’t something that Newt was ever ashamed of as he’d gotten them through his greatest achievements - the new wounds would just be added to the collection of those achievements. They ranged from small to large, from slashes to burns, from human and creature alike. There was a particularly old one, faded and dulled, that covered the expanse of his chest from the edge of his collar bone to the opposite side of the top of his ribs, three parallel slashes from the attack of a hippogriff when he was nothing but a child - that day he decided that he wanted to dedicate his life into befriending beasts and magical creatures, wanting to know everything about them. That was one of the severe scars he’d gotten from his creatures, the next one on the ranking being the burn scar over his shoulder from a startled dragon - she had been very apologetic after she realised what she’d done - the rest being nicks and small claw and teeth marks from those that were still wary of Wizards and the new place they were in. His more severe scars were from Wizards and Muggles: diffindo scars across his back as he was tortured for information concerning the creatures he’d been caught saving; bullet wound in his thigh from the war; lightning scars down his arms and chest from his run-in with Grindelwald; a stab wound in his stomach from a Muggle who had been after his money. The list went on and Newt could understand the way Graves’ eyes widened at the map of past wounds that had been forever etched into his skin, something that Wizards didn’t generally suffer from due to healing magics, but with the dark spells and the lack of medical support in Newt’s job, being healed properly was a task in and of itself.

As for the tattoos, Newt only had a few, but even one was enough to send Theseus into cardiac arrest… 

A dragon could be seen flying around his arm, tail and wings often wrapping around the appendage with a possessive quality. There was a badger that hid under his arm in the months of hibernation and then liked to wander up to Newt’s neck more often than not. Lastly, an occamy and runespore had wrapped themselves around each of his ankles, only occasionally moving up his calves. Again, magical tattoos were simply not done in the northern Wizarding culture (it was illegal to have them in England) and had them done on his travels through Asia, Africa and Brazil. He didn’t regret a single one.

Graves seemed absolutely fascinated as he looked at the tattoos and scars like he’d never seen them on anyone before, or never expected to see them on someone and quiet and shy as the magizoologist.

Quickly, the Director moved passed the marks as he focused on the wound at hand, which would be healed slowly due to the use of dark magic when the spell was shot at him, wiping away the dried and newly weeping blood gently with a soft, wet towel, not making a single comment despite wanting to. The process was slow going, but Graves seemed to have a very gentle hand as Newt only hissed a couple of times, which resulted in the other’s deep soothing voice to wash over him, which calmed him down once again. Soon, Graves was wrapping the last of Newt’s wounds, finishing up on the small, but long, cut on his leg, before shaking his hands slightly to wandlessly clean them of the paste and blood.

“Why didn’t you call us?” Graves suddenly asked when Newt was re-buttoning his shirt, causing the Hufflepuff to swiftly look up at the grim-faced Director. At Newt’s continued silence, Graves sighed and sat down so that he and Newt were eye level, “At the port, why didn’t you send a message to us, or tell Auror Goldstein when you knew what was going to happen?”

“I…” Newt started and then trailed off with a thoughtful frown. In all honesty, Newt had forgotten that he had the MACUSA to rely on, that he had friends he could count on. Never before had Newt had the government on his side when doing his job, usually, they saw him as a troublemaker that they wanted out of their country as soon as possible and in the rush of the moment, Newt had forgotten that people wanted to support him here. “The message came last minute and I forgot…” Newt admitted, feeling like an idiot as he flushed deeply and ducked his head to avoid the disappointment in the man’s eyes.

“Mr Scamander,” the Director started in such a soft and soothing tone that Newt had never heard from the man before, causing the redhead to look up, “I understand that you’ve been alone in your travels for a long time, but please try to remember that we are here for you, to protect you. I know I can’t stop you from jumping head-first into spellfire when there’s a creature to be saved, so please call us when that happens again.” he finished with such an earnest expression in those dark eyes that Newt couldn’t help but duck his head before he bobbed it in nonverbal agreement.

“Newt,” he suddenly blurted, just as the Director was about to stand from his perch on the stall, “Call me Newt.”

The answering smile from the usually stern man was so warm and genuine that Newt couldn’t help the answering smile that graced his own lips, one that was rarely shown to a fellow human. “Then please,” the Director started, tone as warm as his smile, “Call me Percival.”

After that, Newt was a lot more at ease with the Director, despite his stern exterior. He still didn’t smile around the office and was the picture of a deadly and fully trained Auror, but Newt could see the way the man’s dark eyes softened minutely when he was talking to someone he liked, a quality that Newt noticed included him as well much to the magizoologist’s delight.

His departure at the end of the week was postponed by a few months now. Dragon’s were very hard to care for when they were younger and needed round the clock attention in order to survive the first few months of their hatching. With barely a week or two, until the two dragon eggs hatched, Newt couldn’t risk travel and diverted attention. He’d have to wait until after the eggs have hatched and grown to a less vulnerable state before he travelled back to Europe to find a good dragon mother to care for the children and raise them to hunt and fend for themselves.

Queenie, Tina and Jacob were thrilled at the news of Newt staying for a few extra months instead of just the one week that he’d planned. Newt could also tell that Percival was silently happy with Newt staying longer as well, especially with the amount of time that they started to spent together inside and outside of Percival’s work. Lunchtimes were now split between the Goldstein sisters and within Mr Graves’ office and Newt, along with a Tina, Queenie and Jacob, had even had a few dinners around the Director’s house.

It was odd but Newt and Percival were getting closer and closer and Newt wasn’t even scared about the fast development between the two of them. He felt excited. Never before had Newt felt such excitement about anything outside of his creatures! However, Newt’s creatures were still wary of the Director, not liking the dark-eyed man too close to Newt as they tried to separate the two on the rare occasion that Percival tried to help Newt with the feeding and tending of his creatures.

The second week into his stay, Queenie and Percival managed to get Newt a temporary position as Percival’s secretary so that Newt was getting paid to hang around the MACUSA. The job had flexible hours so that he could attend to his creatures if and when he needed to throughout the day, especially with caring for the eggs and the new creatures that were settling in - the pogrebin had taken to following Newt around while in the case, just as he’d predicted. Though Newt had a feeling that Percival wanted to get the magizoologist a more permanent position within the MACUSA rather than the temporary secretary job.

At the end of the second week, the dragon eggs hatched almost simultaneously and Newt was busy caring for them and putting out literal fires all over his case - Dougal was a huge help as he often used to the power of premonition to pull Newt away from the path of flames that would have added to his collection of dragon burn scars. Other than the usual hiccup, the babies seemed more than happy with Newt’s care and had often let out squeals of joy upon Newt’s entry and had knocked the Wizard down a few times as they slammed into him in an attempt to greet him. They were adorable, but hard work to keep track of and was forcing Newt to get more and more brandy from the shops in an attempt to feed them properly - within a month they’d be ready to move onto consuming meat. When Newt was able to get away from his case, Percival was great company and seemed to have a sixth sense for when Newt had forgotten to eat anything for a while. It was helpful and Newt couldn’t be more grateful for his friendship in Percival.

Things were going well for Newt in America, despite the catastrophe the trip had been last time and the President’s eagerness to get him out of her country. Newt couldn’t help the swell of happiness within him whenever he spent time with his friends, especially with Percival. Newt had a really good thing going to Percival and he was rather nervous about where that would lead them…

* * *

“Percival,” Newt called as he stepped into the man’s office with a little knock of warning before he barged in, “You’ve got a few forms here to-“

“Newt!” a voice suddenly interrupted and equally as suddenly, Newt was swept off his feet in a firm and crushing hug.

Newt didn’t even have to see who it was to see who was hugging him and he sighed deeply as he let himself hang in the man’s strong grip, “Thee, what are you doing here?”

The man then drew back slightly, an award-winning grin upon his features, a red curl falling on his forehead, the hair a shade darker than Newt’s own, as he looked down at the smaller magizoologist in his arms, “What? I can’t check on my little brother anymore?”


	3. Battle of beliefs

“Thee, honestly,” Newt sighed for what felt like the twentieth time, as he rocked the two baby dragons in his arms, “I can’t travel right now and I’m perfectly happy here.” he moved to the padded nests that he’d set up for the little critters as he went to get a bucket of brandy and a few scraps of meat that he could feed them - they couldn’t eat a whole chicken yet, but they would be on an all-meat diet in the coming months.

“Please, just consider it,” Theseus asked as he looked up at Newt from where he was making the fuss of the hippogriff. While the older Scamander wasn’t as animal crazy as Newt was, he still held a special place in his heart for hippogriffs after having grown up next to a herd of them. “I can get you a job much better than a secretary position at the Ministry. You know they’ve been trying to get you to work for them since the war.”

Newt rolled his eyes. Theseus had been trying to get him to return to England for years now, but Newt never had the heart to stay for more than a few days a month to visit his brother before he was hopping off to the next country. It was only because Newt had stayed at the MACUSA for so long that Theseus had portkeyed there to convince him to come back in person than over a letter like he usually did.

“They don’t want me for my talents,” Newt stated as he absentmindedly stroked one the dragon’s wings, the small appendage fluttering as she chirped with happiness, “They want me so they can keep check of me and throw me in Azkaban with the first toe out of line,” he stated with a mild glare. They had wanted to throw Newt into Azkaban since he was first thrown out of Hogwarts. It was one of the main reasons why he never stayed in his home country for very long.

“They won't. I would never let that happen,” Theseus stated seriously as he turned to face Newt fully. There was silence between the brothers before the elder sighed and stroked the hippogriff one last time before stepping away as he looked earnestly into his brother’s eyes, “Just consider it. That’s all I ask.”

Light green stared into pleading brown for a moment before Newt lowered his eyes with a small nod and a reluctant agreement falling from his lips, “Okay…”

At that, Theseus gave a blinding grin at his little brother before he stepped forward to wrap his arms around the magizoologist once again, not at all deterred by the fact that Newt didn’t try to raise his arms to hug his brother back. When the elder finally let go, he gently patted Newt on the shoulder before he leaned against the nearby wall, “You wanna get lunch together? Show me the American life?”

Newt shook his head, “Can’t. I promised Percival that I’d join him today.”

“Percy?” Theseus asked eyebrows raised with surprise at the casual first-name basis that the stern Auror was on with very few people. His eyes narrowed with suspicion as he looked at the light, near undetectable, redness to Newt’s cheeks when he mentioned the Director, “You have lunch with him often?”

Instantly, Newt turned to face his brother, brows knitted with confusion at the oddness to his brother’s tone, “Y-Yes. Nearly every day. Unless I’ve made prior plans with my other friends. Why do you ask?”

Theseus’ expression of narrowed eyed suspicion suddenly disappeared, replaced with a jovial smirk that he usually wore on his lips in Newt’s presence as he shook his head, “No reason. Mind if I join you?”

“I- Well - um - I’m not sure-“

“Oh, come on, Newt!” Theseus pressed with a quirk of his lips, “I hardly ever see you and it’s been a long time since I’d seen Percy. Haven’t had a proper meet up since our careers took off as Aurors.”

Newt looked thoughtful as he measured his brother’s argument before nodding his consent, much to Theseus’ delight.

“Great!” the Brit trilled as he went to ruffle his brother’s hair, only to freeze when he felt a slight movement a heard a few chirps of surprise. Swiftly, he pulled back his hand and sent his little brother an exasperated look, “You have birds in your hair again?”

“They like it.”

Theseus rolled his eyes with good humour shining in his eyes, “There’s a reason. Ever heard of a brush? Or Sleekeazy’s hair potion? Maybe if you tend to your hair rather than let Pickett run wild, birds wouldn’t mistake it for a nest.”

“Pickett does a fine job,” Newt told his brother firmly as he lifted the bowtruckle to his shoulder from where he’d travelled down to his fingers, smiling warmly at the creature when he chirped in thanks, “Don’t you, Pick?” he questioned and then laughed softly when the small creature started to pick through the strands of his hair that brushed over his ear.

The British Auror could only smile warmly at his little brother’s antics. While most would consider Newt to be an oddity of the world and want him to change to suit the more popular social antiquates, Theseus found Newt to be endearing and loveable, quirks and all. Newt was refreshing and colourful to the boring grey-scale lifestyle that most people preferred. With a parting smile, Theseus nodded to his brother, “I’m going to go up and chat up with Percy. Don’t forget about lunch.” he warned at the end.

The Hufflepuff rolled his eyes at his brother as he turned his attention fully towards his creatures once again, “I won't. I’ve set an alert.” However, both Scamanders knew that sometimes an alert wasn’t always heard when Newt was too consumed by the thoughts of his creatures and Theseus silently resolved himself to the possibility that he’d have to get Newt from the case later.

“Okay, see you in an hour,” Theseus then turned and walked away, making Newt oblivious to the sudden and dark expression that came over his brother’s face as he climbed up his ladder to have a little ‘chat’ with Percival Graves…

An hour passed and Newt was startled out of his work when a loud knock echoed throughout his case and suddenly became aware of the continuous chiming that his alarm had been making for the past couple of minutes. Sighing, Newt set down the Niffler, who had come to Newt with a silent demand of tummy rubs for the few pregnancy cramps that she was feeling - Newt dreaded and elated in equal measure at the thought of her finally giving birth.

Quickly shrugging on his blue coat once again, Newt stroked a few of his animals as he went passed and climbed out of his case, shyly smiling at the two waiting men.

“Sorry,” he apologised sincerely, “I lost track of time…” he trailed off as he caught sight of the two of them. They looked normal: Theseus was smiling down at him with a quirk to his lips that used to drive him insane when he’d been younger and the older brother was more prone to annoying him; Percival looked just as stern and put together with the usual subtle softening in his dark eyes when they turned to Newt. But, there was a mention in the air that made Newt think of two fighting alpha males… Had the pair gotten into some kind of fight? Or maybe they had spared and the air of competition hadn’t quite worn off yet?

“I think you need to cast a stronger alarm, Newt,” Theseus joked which made Newt want to roll his eyes, “Shall we head to lunch then?”

Before Newt could open his mouth to agree, Percival spoke up, a hardness to his jaw as he clenched his teeth, “Yes. Lets.”

As the three sat in the communal lunch hall, Newt’s observation about the two Aurors with him seemed to be noted with other people as they did everything they could to scamper and dive out of the way in order to keep contact way from the feral atmosphere that the two were emitting. Newt tried his best to keep himself from hunching his shoulders and making himself smaller and less of a target, but it was instinctual and was further honed by his years with creatures where that tactic had kept him alive and uninjured more often than not. When they got to a spare table with their food in hand, the alpha males openly glared at one another and Newt couldn’t help but curl in on himself at the open hostility. What in Merlin’s name had happened between them the hour that they’d been alone together?

“Newt-“

“Yes!” the magizoologist practically squeaked as his eyes shot to Percival, who only raised a single eyebrow in silent questioning. Clearing his throat and blushing furiously hot with embarrassment, Newt tried again, “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you had any intentions in working for the Ministry of Magic in England in the near future,” he asked, dark eyes trained on Theseus, who narrowed his own dark eyes with silent anger, “I only ask because Madam President is thinking of having you a permanent member of the MACUSA by creating a Magical Creature Consultant position for you.”

Newt’s eyes widen at that, face flushing with pride and slight embarrassment at being taken so off guard. While the Hufflepuff knew that Percival, Tina and Queenie were planning on finding in a more permanent position within the Woolworth Building, he had no idea that they would create a position for him. It was rather flattering. His eyelids dipped for a second of thought before he turned to face the American Auror once again, a look of regret on his face, “While I’m honoured that you would consider me for such a position, there is the issue where I need to travel for my job and need to care for my creatures - which is one of the main reasons why I can’t ever work for the Ministry of Magic in England. My loyalties and attention would be divided and my creatures will always come first. I’m sorry Director Graves.” Newt finished with a shuddering breath with his eyes firmly on the table as he waited for the man to flip out and start yelling at him for rejecting the job that was literally made for him.

“Madam President and I understand that Mr Scamander,” Percival nodded with a patience that none other than Theseus had ever shown him, “But the position would be a ‘consultant’ and so doesn’t require you to be permanently at the MACUSA or in America at only one time. You would be free to travel on short notices and funds to help your rescued creatures when need be. Generally, we would be your home-base that you return and report to when your out of country tasks have been complete. We would ask to keep in contact by letter or portkey in order to consult with us when dealing with anything to do with magical creatures.”

It sounded like a dream come true. Never would the Ministry offer such a job to Newt; whoever they employ they liked to attach them to the country with a short lead, which would be especially thick in Newt’s case unless they were in a very high position of power like Theseus. But Newt had never been one to jump at ideas or be impulsive (his creatures and close friends and family being an exception) and so needed to think about what exactly was being offered to him by Percival and the MACUSA.

“I will think about it.” he finally said after getting his tongue to work. In response, Percival gave a brilliant and rare smile to Newt, which made the magizoologist’s chest tighten for some unknown reason. Maybe he was coming down with an illness?

Newt went back to eating and the rest of the meal was spent with Theseus mainly talking to Newt about what was going on in England with the Ministry and that they were so relieved that the Grindelwald issue was finally coming to a close and hinting about Newt possibly trying to romantically settle down - which Newt faked obliviousness to. Percival was quiet for most of the meal and usually had to fight to talk to Newt as Theseus constantly spoke over him, wanting his little brother’s attention, which forced Newt to intervene so that Percival to talk his share as well. Newt noticed that whenever Percival spoke, Theseus would glare daggers at the American Wizard until he stopped and started to talk to Newt again, completely ignoring his friend, which was odd considering how much Theseus claimed to like the man in the past.

Lunch finished awkwardly with Newt bidding the Director goodbye (Newt having the afternoon off with his brother’s unexpected arrival) as he took Theseus around to meet his other friends, who he was immediately taken with. He was a bit surprised to be meeting with Jacob, a Nomaj, but took it in stride and ended up loving his pastries for their taste and shape - he even asked the Nomaj about the possibility of him creating a hippogriff cake or pastry in the future.

As time went on, Newt started to notice how much his brother’s attitude matched up with his animals, especially when it came to Percival. When it came to Newt and Percival, Theseus would wedge himself between the two or literally drag Newt away with a babble of something important. Newt had even seen Theseus growl at Percival more than once, looking like he was about to go in for the kill before he suddenly noticed Newt’s presence. It was odd.

So odd, in fact, that Newt decided to address the topic outright.

“What is going on?” Newt demanded as he stared at his brother. They were shut in a small closet space that Newt had lead Theseus to under the false pretence of Newt needing help with his creatures.

Confused and shocked by his usually passive brother’s firmness, Theseus shook his head, “What do you mean? Newt, why are we here?”

“Never mind that,” the smaller dismissed with a swift wave, “You and Percival, what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on.” Theseus denied with a heavy glare settling on his face with the mere mention of the man.

“It’s clear that you hate him,” Newt stated bluntly, ignoring his brother’s spluttering at the blatant accusation, “But I don’t know why? Did he do something to you? Did he say something to upset you?” Newt frowned in deeper thought before he looked at his measure with a measuring gaze, “Is it because of the Grindelwald case? Do you blame him for being tricked and tortured for all those months that Grindelwald was masquerading as the Director?”

“No,” Theseus blurted, hands shooting out to settle on Newt’s shoulders as he looked firmly into his little brother’s eyes, “No, I don’t blame Percy for what happened and I never will. Grindelwald has tortured and killed people a lot more powerful and influential than Percy and it shows his strength of will that he never caved to the man and survived it all. I have all the respect in the world for Percival.” Theseus finished earnestly and completely truthfully.

But there was still one thing that made Newt doubt his brother’s words. “Then why are you acting like you hate him?”

At this, Theseus looked pained as he looked down at Newt’s soft green eyes, desperately asking for the truth. The internal battle seemed to end in Newt’s favour when Theseus’ shoulder slumped in defeat and a deep sigh escaped his lips as he looked reluctantly at his little brother, “Look, Newt-“

Suddenly, the door opened and both Scamander’s faced the intruder with an instinctive wand point, only for both of them to blush when they realised that they were pointing their wands at the President, who had an unimpressed eyebrow raised at both of them. She seemed to instantly dismiss their actions as she stated with authority, “Mr Scamander, we require your assistance.”

“Of course, Madam Picquery.” Theseus nodded, looking relieved to be pulled away from the conversation.

“I meant Mr Scamander, the younger.” Picquery corrected with a small gesture to Newt, who looked like a hide-behind caught in a lumos, “Follow me, please.” she politely commanded before she turned to walk away, Newt having to quickly shake off his shock and quickly scramble after her, Theseus not far behind his brother as they followed the President.

“M-Madam President, may I ask why you need me?” Newt stammered out as he tried to keep up with her swift and hurried pace through the Woolworth Building.

“You may not.” she stated as she stepped into the lift, Newt and Theseus crammed in there with her, “Mr Scamander, this doesn’t concern you.” she directed at the elder of the two.

“Everything to do with my brother concerns me, Madam President.” Theseus shot back with a professionally calm expression.

They locked eyes for a moment, a silent battle of wills being exchanged before the Witch sighed and nodded, Theseus giving a nod of silent thanks in return.

Within seconds, the trio was in the meeting room that Newt had been in before when the world leaders had gathered and accused his creatures of killing a Muggle. Newt was only mildly surprised when he saw Percival there, hands clasped firmly behind his back as he paced the room, looking pale and concerned.

Instantly, Newt found himself walking ahead of the President, concern and worry building in him as he placed his hand comfortingly on Percival’s arm, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked, but his only response was a sad shake of his head as he placed his own hand on Newt’s arm, squeezing it back.

“Unfortunately, Mr Scamander,” Picquary started, a sombre but serious look upon her face, “This is a very serious matter and we wouldn’t ask this of you if we weren’t entirely out of options.”

“What do you need?” Newt asked as he retracted his hand from Percival to face the President.

“We need you to talk to Grindelwald.” she stated firmly.

Percival jumped in when he saw the way both Scamanders reacted, “The decision is entirely up to you. We understand that you’re not an Auror and have absolutely no obligation to endanger yourself and complete this task. You have every right to say no.” he stated and Newt got the impression that Percival wanted him to deny the President’s request.

“Why me?” Newt asked, completely confused as he looked from one American to the other.

“He requested to speak with you,” the President explained, “For months now, we’ve been trying to interrogate him, to get him to reveal where his main bases are and who his main associates are, but he refused to speak. The only thing he’s said is that he wants to speak to you, and you alone. If you are willing to, we hoped you would ask him these questions for us.”

“No!” Theseus stated heatedly, a dark glower on his face as he finally shook himself of his shock, “Absolutely not! Newt is not going into the same room as the most powerful and dangerous dark lord in all of history!”

“That is not your decision to make, Mr Scamander,” Picquary snapped, her authority ringing around the near-silent room, silencing Theseus immediately, before turning to Newt with a softer expression, “As Director Graves stated, this is entirely your decision and you are under no obligation to act upon this request.”

Newt was silent for a moment as he looked at the brown leather of his shoes in deep thought before he finally looked up to look at the President’s collarbone, “What will happen if I don’t do this?”

Picquary sighed as answered, a tired look in her eyes that made Newt’s frown deepen, “Then the interrogation will fail and Grindelwald’s followers will still be at large to act in his name. While we can search and hunt for his followers without his input, a lot more lives can be saved the sooner we get that information.”

Newt swallowed, the action feeling difficult with how dry his throat had suddenly gotten with how many lives depended on him, while Theseus looked just about ready to rip her head off…

“That is complete manipulation on your part!” the British war hero hissed between his teeth before he rounded on Newt with desperately pleading eyes, “Please, Newt. Don’t do this. They have no right to even try to ask this of you. You’re not their citizen and you have nothing to do with Grindelwald!” he then turned to Percy, a hysteric glint in his eyes as he asked, “Why is he interested in my brother?”

“That could be to do with the fact that Mr Scamander was the primary reason for Grindelwald’s arrest.” the Witch answered with a small eyebrow raise to Newt, who looked panicked and twitchy as Theseus slowly turned to face his baby brother with an expression of thunder.

“You what?” he practically growled out, making Newt look like he was seconds away from bolting out the room.

“I, er, may have restrained Grindelwald before he could attack the Aurors and then… Revealed him as Grindelwald and not Director Graves in front of everyone after fighting with him.” he squeaked out the last bit, shoulder curled inwards as he looked firmly at his brother’s shoes.

There was a short silence throughout the room before Theseus practically exploded, “You what?!”

“Mr Scamander!” Picquary spoke over the furious and worried mother-hen of a war hero, tone breeching no room for argument as she moved the conversation back on track, “While I understand your shock, I ask you that you leave this conversation for later while we discuss more recent matters. Mr Scamander,” she turned her attention back to Newt, “Your answer?”

There was a moment o silence as everyone looked at Newt before the shy magizoologist hesitantly nodded his head, “Yes.”

Three different reactions happened all at once. President Picquary looked relieved and pleased as she sighed and nodded at his consent, happy to be a step closer to locking away the dangerous criminals. Percival looked pained and crushed in equal measure, looking at Newt with such sorrow and worry that it looked like his heart was physically breaking, all while staying silent and reluctantly accepting Newt’s decision. Theseus was not happy and he wasn’t afraid to be vocal about it.

“No,” he stated with a glare at his brother, “No way in Merlin’s name am I letting you step in the same room as that man!” he hissed, “If you think, for even a second, that I’m okay with this-“

“I don’t need you to be okay with it,” Newt interrupted, sharper than he meant to before he paused to take a calming breath, before he looked at his brother with a gentler expression, wanting him to understand, “I need you to be there for me. You know I can’t step back when I know I can do something. That’s not who I am…”

Theseus reluctantly nodded, before stepping forward to pull him into a crushing hug, “I’m there. I’m always going to be there, but the first sign of danger and I’m pulling you out of there. Got it?” he commanded, looking between Newt and the two Americans, happy when they all nodded in agreement.

Soon, they were all walking to the lower levels of the building, the lift practically falling before coming to a stop on the very last level. As Newt timidly stepped out of the lift, he was hit with a noise of crowded, jeering people who were shouting at the group from their cells, banging on the magic-strengthened metal bars with tin cans and closed fists. It made Newt want to turn around and hide in the lift, refusing to get out until they pulled him back up to the brighter levels of the building than this dank hell that they were hiding in their underbelly. He nearly did exactly that when he suddenly jumped at feeling a warm hand sliding into his own. Wide, fear-filled eyes turned to face the source of the touch, mildly surprised to see that it was Percival. Dark brown stared into light green as Percival squeezed Newt’s hand in silent comfort and support, giving Newt the strength to tentatively squeeze back and take a step forward. Newt didn’t let go of the Director’s hand the entire time he moved through the prison, Theseus and Picquary completely unaffected by the slurs and offences being thrown their way as Percival and Newt trailed behind them hand in hand.

All too soon, the large metal doors were being opened and complicated spells were being unwoven as the guards took Newt aside and scanned him over with magic making sure that he had nothing suspicious on him that could be used to help Grindelwald escape and/or hurt Newt. Pickett, the three birds Huff, Puff and Chuff, a stray occamy and his wand left Newt’s person, all going to Theseus and Percival’s care as Newt took a deep breath before stepping into the windowless room that held the most dangerous Wizard alive…

Like the bang of the last nail in his coffin, the door slammed closed behind Newt, making the magizoologist flinch slightly as he quickly looked behind him and then forced his eyes forward to keep the only other man sitting there in his constant line of vision. A curl of dread churned in his stomach when he saw the tell-tale smirk on Grindelwald’s chapped lips that told Newt that the man knew he was afraid to be in the same room as him. His hand instinctively went to the wand holster on his hip, only to turn into a fist when he remembered that the holster was empty and he was indeed trapped in a room with a dangerous man, completely defenceless…

The man before him didn’t seem like a deadly and powerful dark lord, his eyes held dark bruises from lack of sleep, his hair was unkempt and straggly with lack of washing and brushing, he looked thin and his clothes looked to have seen better days. Taking another look at the man’s clothes, Newt didn’t think that he’d been changed out of the ones that the Aurors had caught him in. What was worse was that his skin was marked with bruises and his wrists bore a circle of chard flesh from the burn of the magic-restraining shackles that had been placed far too tightly around his wrists. Newt winced at that, hands subconsciously moving to rub at his own from the remembrance of being forced into such a device by some traffickers after being caught.

The only tell that told Newt that the man was just as dangerous and conniving as ever was the glint of fire in his mismatched eyes that shined ever brighter as they caught Newt’s small movement towards his wrists, a quirk coming to his lips at the new knowledge.

“I see you are familiar with this device, Mr Scamander,” Grindelwald started, voice still as silky smooth as it ever was, as he lightly rattled his chains. Newt didn’t answer, he didn’t even move as he just stared at the dark lord with bated breath, “Tell me, who put you in such a device?”

“I-“ Newt stuttered, wincing when he imagined what Theseus was going to do to him when he got out of this room. Newt usually left out the dangerous and painful parts of his adventured when he sent letters to his brother. “Traffickers, based in Iraq, accents from Russia. They caught me when I was putting the tortured Demiguise into my case. They couldn’t get it to open, so they tried to make me…”

“And when you wouldn’t tell them, they put these on you,” Grindelwald finished the rest for him, a sad smile on his lips and eyes full of compassion and understanding, “They tortured you,” he commented and Newt said nothing to combat it, his silence being answer enough.

“Where are your followers?” Newt questioned, knowing that the faster he got the answers, the faster he could leave the room.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Grindelwald spoke sombrely, completely ignoring Newt’s question, “That should have never happened to you. I bet the authorities of that country didn’t even try to help you, far too interested in killing the creatures they deem ‘dangerous’ and the Wizard they deem ‘unstable’.” Newt couldn’t help but twitch at that. The circumstances that Grindelwald described was scarily alike to what Newt had experienced time and time again, in any country he’s ever set foot in. The magical law had failed him time and time again… But that was neither here nor there where Grindelwald and his own crimes were concerned.

“Where are your followers?” Newt repeated the question, a harder edge to his tone as he held eye contact for a second longer than he normally would to try and get his point across.

Once again, the question was ignored as the German proceeded on, “I can envision a world where Magic is free, people and animals alike. We are free from our self-suppression, free to show our magic, our gift, and a free world for your creatures to roam safely without fear of Wizard or human persecution. Don’t you want that Newt? Don’t you want that for your creatures?”

“What I want, Mr Grindelwald, is for you to answer my question.” Newt nearly growled out as he took a step closer to the chained man.

“Answer mine first and I’ll tell you were some of my bases are.” Grindelwald challenged, a smirk upon his features as he interlinked his fingers in his lap.

Seconds passed in silence before Newt gave a sigh of defeat, “Yes, I want that,” he admitted truthfully, “I want my creatures to roam free and I want them to be protected my sanctuary and laws alike instead of being instantly labelled threats because no one will take the time to understand them,” Newt admitted, narrowing his eyes when Grindelwald gave a smug smile of satisfaction, “But I don’t agree with the rest of your cause, not your methods,” the smirk fell slightly, “I have a value for life that you don’t appear to have; mass slaughter for the greater good is not ‘good’ and nothing would ever justify the scale of genocide that you are willing to let happen.”

“So, what?” Grindelwald hissed between his teeth, mismatched eyes bright with a righteous fire as anger distorted his pale features, “You believe that we should remain as we are, even if we have to scuttle in the dark, even if children like Credence are overlooked and tortured because he seemed different?”

“What happened to Credence was another matter entirely,” Newt stated forcefully, his own anger rising, “I believe in coexistence. It’s hard, but life was never meant to be easy. Balance is an important thing in both magic and life. The way Muggles measure Balance is with the good and evil that they’ve had to live through. The way I measure it is that our magic gives us an advantage in life, making everything easy because we’ve created a spell for it, so for the sake of Balance we must endure the rift between our worlds, alone. That, Mr Grindelwald, is my philosophy in life and I will continue to think that way,” he gave small pause, letting the silence flood over them for a second before speaking again, “Answer the question.”

The air was charged with a challenging and murderous air as Newt held Grindelwald’s eyes, wanting nothing more than to leave the room and get the hell away from the man that had practically tortured him in a subway. Suddenly, Grindelwald shot up from his chair, shackles breaking and tumbling away, a wand that Newt had never seen before flew into the man’s hand as he grinned savagely at Newt with a murderous gleam. Newt felt as if everything was falling apart in slow motion and at the speed of light all at the same time.

Instinct kicked in just in time as a bright red spell was flung his way, the younger man diving to the floor and rolling to his feet in a crouch. Newt looked up just in time to see the German give a wicked grin before firing another spell. Quickly, Newt forced the flow of magic to race to his hands as he held them up in a silent and wandless protego, the weak shield breaking upon the first hit of the powerful spell. Grindelwald looked shocked at the wandless magic but quickly got over it as he fired another spell, this one racing too close to Newt’s face and leaving a deep cut along his cheek. Newt twitched his fingers and sent his own cutting hex at the man, only to have it batted out of the air.

For the next few minutes, Grindelwald seemed to be playing with Newt as the magizoologist attempted to twist and turn in order to miss the spells thrown at him, sending a few spells back that Grindelwald had no problem batting away. Some of them landed on Newt, but they were nothing more than a few scrapes and cuts that Newt could easily heal later. He could hear people on the other side of the door, struggling to open it after closing all the wards behind it. It would take at least five minutes for them to get him out of the room and only two minutes had passed. Maybe he wanted to wait to kill Newt until his brother and Percival got a full view of it?

“You are more powerful than I expected, Mr Scamander,” Grindelwald spoke up in a taunting voice as Newt cast a shield to protect himself from the volley of hexes that were thrown at him. Suddenly, the dark wizard’s grin grew wider as Newt’s shield shattered under the continued assault and he swiftly flicked his wand. Ropes seemed to spring from nowhere as they wrapped around Newt’s arms, pinning them behind his back as the bonds forced him to the floor and against the wall. “But I am much stronger than you.”

Newt said nothing as he uselessly struggled within his bonds, the ropes getting unbearably tighter until Newt had to stop, his breath leaving him in pained pants and head bowed in submission. Gentle fingers in his hair had Newt stiffening at the touch. He tried in vain to turn his head away from the fingers, but they swiftly grabbed his curls in a painful vice-like grip before his face was yanked up to meet a tutting Grindelwald standing over him.

They stared at one another for a moment before Newt asked a question that he’d wanted to ask since he’d stepped into the same room as the bedraggled wizard, “Why did you ask for me?”

“Oh, Newton,” Grindelwald practically crooned as if Newt was a small lost child in need of guidance, his stolen wand gently tracing down Newt’s cheek until the tip rested on the hollow of his throat, “Why do you fight for a society and a government that would rather see you in chains and your creatures dead? After all, they nearly did that after the war was won didn’t they, Dragon Rider?” he questioned, tone smooth with the help of his silver tongue.

Newt’s eyes widened in shock, “How did you…”

“Oh, my child,” Grindelwald bemoaned as he crouched before Newt and took the magizoologist into his arms in an act of comfort, “What they did to you and your dragons were unforgivable. That is the type of thing I’m fighting for, for us to be rid of the paralysing government that would sooner stab you in the back than have dragons roam freely,” he leaned back from the embrace, taking Newt’s face into his hands as he forced soft green eyes to stare into mismatched, “Is that not a cause you would fight for? Will you not join me in making sure that none will ever suffer as you have?”

The offer was tempting...

The trust in his government started to wan when he’d been kicked out of school, despite the fact that it wasn’t entirely his fault. His trust in his government was completely obliterated when the war came around and Newt signed up to the dragon division. He loved his job and was the only person that the dragons would allow to ride them, which Newt did when they were ordered into battle. Towards the end of the war, the demand of his dragon division decreased, which Newt took as a good thing until they told him to terminate the beautiful creatures. Newt refused. After that, he was dishonourably discharged and his dragons slaughtered in front of him and then mutilated for parts. Theseus’ reputation got Newt out of being thrown in prison or sentenced to death, and then Newt left the country with little intention of staying for more than a few days. It was an injustice that remained so until this very day…

But Newt knew manipulation when he saw it and Newt only needed to dip a second into his Sense to see that the wizard before him was lying to him, trying to use Newt and his creatures as he tried to do to Credence. The man’s very aura practically spelt ‘evil intention’ and it was enough to Newt to not give in to the man’s barbed promises and go about achieving his goals the right way.

Grindelwald seemed to know Newt’s answer before he even spoke as his soft, encouraging expression turned frustrated and sickeningly amused.

“Very well,” the German murmured as he stroked Newt’s face with gentle brushes once more before pulling away completely, “Shall we, one day, meet again, Newton.”

At the man’s last words, the door finally flung open and Grindelwald was hit with three spells at once to tie, subdue and knock him out. The German didn’t even try to resist as he allowed the spells to hit him and he dropped to the floor. It was a rush of movement as the Aurors crowded in to drag Grindelwald away and Newt was grabbed as well - Newt could see that the people handling Newt were considerably more gentle than the people who were handling Grindelwald.

When everything finally slowed down, Newt blinked at the small potion bottle in his hand that he deduced to be a calming draught from the colour of the residue. He blinked once more when he realised that the too tight ropes that had been wrapped around his body were gone, leaving only purple bruises around his wrists (and, no doubt, around the rest of his body) that would heal completely in a few hours - especially with all the empty healing bottles that were beside him. Newt blinked one final time as he looked up to see Theseus, Percival, Tina and Queenie surrounding him on all sides, ruffled and concerned to varying degrees.

“Hey, Newt, honey,” Queenie started in a soft, comforting tone as her hand gently curled around his shoulder in a small attempt to ground him, “Are you okay?”

“Ye-Yes,” Newt coughed as he came back to himself and subtly shook out his sore muscles, “I’m fine, Queenie. Thanks.” he smiled at her, relieved that she was there with him - his thought made her smile even wider at him.

“You’re fine?!” Theseus practically shouted, pale and jittery as he paced in front of his little brother. Newt wasn’t surprised at the sight of his frazzled brother and remembered him being in such a stated when he found out that Newt had signed up for the experimental dragon division during the war when Newt was barely seventeen. “Newt, you were trapped in a room, completely defenceless, with an armed dark lord! You are not fine!”

Silently, Newt just extended his hand towards his brother and Theseus immediately snatched it, holding his little brother’s hand like a life-line, as if afraid that Newt would disappear into thin air. Later, in private, Newt knew that his brother would want to lay down with his little brother, hug and cradle him until he was positive that Newt was safe and whole, but it would only embarrass his brother later if he did that kind of thing in public, so hand-holding was the next best option. Soft green eyes turned away from his brother as he studied the two concerned Aurors before him, “How did Grindelwald get a wand?”

“We’re looking into it,” Percival stated, jaw clenching and unclenching as he ground his teeth together in frustrated anger, “We don’t know if the wand was stolen or given, but we’re checking every personnel that’s been even remotely near him and bringing them in for questioning. We’ll get to the bottom of this within a week or so, Newt. Don’t worry.” at the end, the Director took to pacing the room, looking frazzled by the minute as he raked his hands through his hair, dishevelling it from its usual pristineness.

Unthinkingly, Newt held out his other hand for the Director to squeeze and comfort himself, something a Director and a very serious man would probably never lower himself to do Newt realised too late. Newt was about to retract his hand when Percival grabbed it and squeezed it as hard as Theseus, silently reassuring himself that Newt was alive and present, his thumb brushing over Newt’s plus point every now and again just to double-check.

Theseus said nothing for once, far too preoccupied with his brother’s welfare to bother glaring at Percival, while Tina and Queenie only shared a knowing look, the blonde-haired sister looking far more excited than the brown-haired. Newt was oblivious to it all as he closed his eyes to think and calm himself down.

He’d been thinking about Percival’s offer to join the MACUSA as a Magical Creatures Consultant, having gotten all the paperwork about the role and read through it all thoroughly. While Newt would never work for the Ministry due to the incident in the war and the fact that they want him chained to a desk and ‘out of the way’, the MACUSA had never done something so dire to Newt. Sure, what happened with Credence was a tragedy and it showed they’re prejudiced against creatures and magical beings, but the fact that they were willing to take Newt on for his profession only made others know that the MACUSA were willing to change their views and dealing with magical creatures, unlike the Ministry. There was also the fact that MACUSA was one of the largest and influential magical government in the world, next to the Ministry of Magic in England, and if one government was willing to change then other governments should soon follow suit…

“Mr Graves,” Newt started in a more professional manner, earning the surrounding people looks of confusion - barring Queenie, who looked excited and happy - as Percival opened his mouth to correct Newt into calling him by his first name, “I accept the position at the MACUSA as the Magical Creatures Consultant. If the offer still stands, that is.” Newt tagged on at the end with a small, hesitant twitch of his lips.

Percival’s face swiftly turned from deep confusion to surprise, before settling on relief with a hint of pride as he looked down at Newt with dark sparkling eyes that made Newt have to mentally will away a blush. The Director nodded, smile wider than Newt had ever seen it, “Yes, the offer still stands and MACUSA would be happy to have you, Mr Scamander.”

“Thank you, Percival.” Newt warmly smiled back.


	4. The nudge

It had been a week since Newt had accepted the Magical Creatures Consultant and he was settling in well. He had a desk made up in the Auror department and worked on any and all cases for magical creatures that the department got, as well as educating the Aurors about how to handle certain dangerous creatures that they’ve come across before. Newt fit into the MACUSA seamlessly, communicating with the other Aurors in an easy professional manner than he would with most people - mainly because he’d gotten to know them previously during his secretary position under Percival.

The only person who had a problem with Newt staying on at MACUSA was none other than Theseus Scamander.

Not that Percival was surprised.

Since the first day that his old friend Theseus had arrived in America, he’d spent all of his time and efforts in getting Newt to return to England, something that, Percival was surprised to find out, Newt hadn’t been to in a while. Honestly, Percival was quite happy to have the magizoologist staying in America for his own personal reasons.

It was odd as Percival had been neutral, if only slightly intrigued, about Newt Scamander’s arrival when he’d first heard the news from a passing Auror. Percival had every intention in asking Mr Scamander about the permits of his creatures before escorting him back to the nearest travelling port out of America. What the Director didn’t expect was for his heart to squeeze and simultaneously double in size when the small man in a peacock blue coat, which would look silly on anyone else except this man, turned to look at Graves with beautiful soft green eyes that he’d ever seen. From that moment on, Percival felt enchanted. He got the permits for the shy magizoologist, who looked more afraid of the Director than ever, though he seemed nervous around any form of authority - probably bad run-ins with previous authority figures. Percival nearly got physically kicked out of Picquary’s office when she’d heard about the number of permits that he’d signed off on for Newt Scamander. It was well worth it because, in Percival’s opinion, when he found out that Newt would be staying in town for a few weeks before heading down south.

Great, Percival had a small time frame, but he still had time. All he had to do was make a connection with Newt so that the magizoologist would get used to him and spend time with him rather than looking at Percival with intimidation before turning his face away.

It had been easier said than done.

First, there was the whole issue with Queenie Goldstein and her Nomaj lover, who turned out to not be a Nomaj after all and had made a soul bond with each other. It was against the laws to separate soulmates, no matter their origins, or even their gender, and they were so rare that Percival was forced to oversee the whole proceeding and such. That cut into a lot of time that Percival wanted to use to get closer to Newt, who kept well away from the legal aspects of it all as he watched and supported from the sidelines, despite the fact that Miss Goldstein had admitted to Mr Scamander detecting it through a Magical Sense, which was also a very rare and surprising gift for any Witch or Wizard to have. Percival briefly wondered if that was partially the reason why Newt worked so well with magical creatures, seeing them for the harmless magic that coursed through their beings rather than what they physically looked like or acted upon.

After the whole process of admitted Jacob Kowalski into the Wizarding World, Percival finally re-set his eyes upon Newt and pondered about how he’d be able to get close to the shy Wizard without scaring in away, which was how Percival came up with the plan to befriend Newt through his creatures. Befriend the creatures, befriend the man.

The plan had gone swimmingly.

For the first five minutes.

Honestly, Percival was amazed by some of the creatures that he saw was in the Brit’s case and how the man interacted with them with obvious love from both sides. It was amazing and it showed further proof of Wizard Kind and Magical Creatures getting along that was mentioned in Newt’s book (the one he’d borrowed from Auror Goldstein and read religiously). However, while the numerous deadly creatures seemed to love and adore Newt as their human carer and protector, they took an instant disliking to Percival - the Director nearly had a heart attack when the Nundu roared and growled at him in an obvious demand to keep away.

The animals were obviously protective of Newt and seemed to understand Percival’s intentions towards their favourite human as they hissed and tried to attack him at all angles. Maybe they could smell that Percival liked Newt in a romantic way? Either way, they all hated his guts - except for the mooncalves, which Percival was able to bribe with food into liking him - and their dislike of Percival had made Newt drawback further from him in fear of the repercussions due to his creatures’ actions.

By the end of the terrible tour, both retreated back to Newt’s workshop, which Percival took his time in examining each vial and reading notes about new potions that Newt had created from the material that his beasts had given him willingly. When he turned back to face Newt, Percival was surprised to find that the man was sleeping, elbow on the desk beside him with his chin comfortably propped up on his hand. The man looked more beautiful than ever as he slept. Percival stared in utter fascination as the man’s chest rose and fell with each breath, face smoothed out with rest which made him look young and peaceful, his dark eyelashes delicately brushes his high freckled cheekbones, and the curls of his hair fanned over his forehead in a pretty mess. He must have been tired from trying to save Percival from his protective creatures for the last few hours.

While Percival knew that he should wake Newt up, to get them both upstairs and out of the case for a little while, he couldn’t help but step a little closer than he needed to, dark eyes trailing down the delicate man’s unblemished, lightly freckled cheek, down his slender neck to where his usually tightly buttoned shirt was undone at the top to expose the hollow of his throat and a small bit of his chest-

Suddenly a mass jumped on him, making Percival stumble away from Newt as he tried to get the attacking creature off of his face, white fur smothering him as he cried out in surprise. He couldn’t restrain the grunt of confused pain when his attacker started to hit him over the head with closed fists.

Luckily, or unluckily if you took into account Percival’s tarnished pride, Newt was startled awake due to all the commotion and shouted, “Dougal?” in a very confused and astonished tone before he gently pried his Demiguise from the Director’s face and started to apologise, babbling about his oddly his creatures were behaving and that they’d never done such a thing to anyone else before - further proving Percival’s theory of the creatures being able to smell his interest in their protector. All while Newt was babbling away and Percival was trying to stoically brush it off, embarrassed beyond Hades Domain about the whole ordeal, Percival caught the Demiguise narrowing his large topaz eyes at the Director as he tightened his grip around Newt in a protective and possessive manner. Newt seemed to be oblivious as to why his Demiguise had acted the way he did and why his creatures were so misbehaved, much to Percival’s relief.

With that attempt being a complete bust, Newt started to avoid the Director even more than before, much to said man’s displeasure. Queenie’s pitying eyes and constant deliveries of overly surgery coffees - which he usually drank when he was feeling down - didn’t help him feel any better. All too soon, Newt was leaving and saying goodbye to new and old friends within the Woolworth Building, ready to move on and continue his travels, Percival’s time frame coming to a very bleak and miserable end…

Suddenly, they were called out to intercept an illegal delivery at the docks and Percival jumped on the case in order to distract himself. When they got to the docks, there were sounds of fighting and Percival suddenly felt a stone of dread in his stomach as he ran towards the sounds. He just knew that he needed to get there. Now. As soon as he rounded the corner, Percival had enough time to see the terrifying image of a man standing over a wounded and bleeding Newt, wand raised and Killing Curse at his lips before his wand flew into his hand and he sent a powerful and stinging stupify into the man’s chest, knocking him into the opposite wall. Percival didn’t even pay attention to anything else as his men flooded the room and Percival went immediately to Newt, sweeping the injured man into his arms and refusing to relinquish his hold.

He knew that the man in his arms was embarrassed in being carried and that Percival should feel embarrassed as well, but he couldn’t bring himself to think past the fact that someone had nearly killed his magizoologist, that Newt had nearly died, alone and scared at the hands of a no-brained criminal. It inflicted a fear upon Percival that had him shamelessly tending and hovering over Newt for hours on end - he nearly restrained the man when he refused to allow the medi-witch to look at his numerous injuries passed his shattered bone, until he tended to his creatures. It shouldn’t have surprised Percival that Newt was just as stubborn about his work as Percival was, but it did. Newt’s dedication to his work was both frustrating beyond measure and confusingly attractive.

Seeing no alternative that would appeal Newt to him, Percival compromised with the deal that once Newt’s new creature’s injuries were sorted, Percival would tend to the man himself. Newt had readily agreed and when the Director proposed and fifteen minutes later, Percival was watching as the magizoologist slowly undressed, wincing when he pulled his cuts a little too much. Percival didn’t know what he was expecting as Newt took off his shirt, but the map of scars and tattoos among lightly tanned skin was not it. Sure, Percival had seen scars and injuries from his time in the field and from his time under Grindelwald’s personal care, but he had never seen so many scars on one person, nor had he expected Newt to have any. However, now that he thought about it, Newt’s job was considerably dangerous from the rescuing to the caring of his creatures, so the scars made sense. What was surprising were the magical tattoos that Newt had. The magical art moving subtly over Newt’s skin like they had a mind of their own. Percival couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised when he saw the dragon that was wrapped around Newt’s bicep, it’s head resting on Newt’s freckled shoulder.

Percival would want nothing more than to just look at Newt for hours. He would spend hours counting every freckle on the man’s beautiful body, gently kissing every scar that he came across and tracing every hidden tattoo. Percival wanted to claim this man, wanted to freely kiss him and bring out expressions and reactions that none could bring out but Percival. He wanted to do so many things to this gorgeous and infuriating man before him, but he quelled his desire and started to clean and wrap the magizoologist’s wounds with a careful and preciousness that spoke of experience in immediate First Aid.

After that, Newt became warmer to Percival, his shy and timid smiles turning warm and happy whenever they were directed at Percival and was happy to accept invitations to join the Director for lunch on many occasions - it also helped that Newt’s creatures had slightly warmed up to Percival after he helped heal their protector. The turn of attitude had Percival on cloud nine for weeks, especially when he found out that Newt would be staying for a few months due to the constant care that two baby dragons would need (not even Picquary yelling at him for giving Newt the dragon permits could spoil his mood). Percival nearly hugged Queenie when the golden-haired Goldstein sister recommended that Newt get a small job at the MACUSA, just to pass the time, and then became Percival’s secretary. Honestly, Newt was the worst secretary that Percival had ever had, especially with his constant breaks that he took to care for his dragons and the fact that he’d get easily distracted from a task if someone were to instigate a friendly conversation with him, but Percival couldn’t bring himself to care.

But Percival couldn’t stop himself from thinking that despite Newt’s sudden extended stay, he would still leave them in the end and might not come back for years on end without a good propose to return. That ended with Percival marching into Seraphina Picquary’s office, locking the door behind him and layering privacy wards all around her office. His actions only got a small eyebrow raise from his boss and friend, before he started to speak.

“I want Newt to remain in America.” he blurted as his fingers raked through his hair and he started to pace.

“I don’t think we have that kind of authority, Director Graves,” the President drawled, eyebrow still raised as she watched the man pace, “Mr Scamander is still a British citizen and have no legal control over him unless we were escorting him out of our country and back to his own.”

“I know,” Graves answered unnecessarily, both knowing that he knew the MACUSA law like a Christian knew the ten commandments, “I know I can’t force him to stay, but I just…” he sighed, defeat in his eyes as he turned to face Piquary completely, “I want to make sure that he comes back… I don’t- I want-“ Percival cut himself off with another sigh.

“I know,” Seraphina smiled, small and warm as she looked at her old friend. Things had been odd between them for a while, especially after she never noticed that Grindelwald was impersonating Graves, resulting in his feelings of betrayal and her feelings of guilt. They had been trying to mend their cracked friendship, but it was hard and would take more time for them to return to normal. But, still, Picquary probably knew Graves more than anyone else. “You want him to stay… I’ve seen the way you look at him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at someone like you look at him, Percival… It makes me wonder if it’d be better if he left,” she sighed and held up her hand when he went to argue the opposing option. As he subdued himself, lips pressed into a thin line as he allowed her to finish talking, a smile twitched at her lips, “Unrequited love can either be a small bump of the road of life, or it can be a crippling affair, something I would never wish upon you… But then, I see the way he looks at you.”

At this, Percival’s eyes widened and his lips parted in a small gape, his mind running a hundred miles per minute as he thought about what Picquary had just revealed. What did she mean? What way did Newt look at him? Did Newt like him the same way that Percival liked him? Or was it a different kind of look? Did Newt look at him out of disgust? Had Newt figured out that Percival liked him and was looking at him in complete disgust? Oh, Mary Lewis, Newt knows!

“He doesn’t know, Percival,” Picquary stated, reading his fast series of spiralling emotions perfectly, and Percival knew that she would have eye-rolled if she had been any less professional, but it served to calm him down nonetheless. For a moment she stared at him, a look of consideration upon her face before she sighed and nodded, making Percival’s chest practically inflate with happiness and hope, “I’ve been thinking about making this position since I read Mr Scamander’s book that a friend of mine sent me. If it gets any bigger, we’ll need to consider getting a whole new Magical Creature Laws department, but I think the position of Magical Creatures Consultant would be fitting for our temporary resident - something that he can leave and come back to when he’s saving creatures. But you’ll have to get him to agree to the position first.” she finished and then dismissed him, letting him practically strut out of her office with a wide smile stuck on his face, while a small curl of endearment was on her own before she went back to reading and signing off reports.

Percival was beyond happy at Madam Picquary’s agreement and consent, all while his stomach was churning and his heart was thudding at Seraphina’s words about Newt liking him back. He was just about to give Newt the good news and the pitch when the unexpected arrival of Theseus Scamander, Newt’s older brother and Percival’s old war friend.

Theseus was not part of Percival’s plan in wooing Newt, but maybe he could use the British Auror to his advantage? After all, Percival knew and liked Theseus so why wouldn’t his old friend help him?

Turns out his ‘old friend’ is way too overprotective of his little brother…

Theseus had been glaring at Percival the whole time he’d arrived before going down into Newt’s case to spend some quality time with his brother while Percival opted to stay in his office to get some forms done before he went to lunch with the Scamander brothers. Fifteen minutes later and the dark red hair of Theseus Scamander emerged from the open case before he closed it behind him, the Brit’s smooth and happy expression turning into a scowling angry mass within seconds upon seeing Percival.

“Director Graves.” Theseus nodded respectfully, a cold look in his dark eyes as he looked down at Percival.

Instinctively, Percival tensed and stood up from his chair, heavy brows cast over his own dark eyes as he regarded the other Wizard’s open hostility towards him, but greeted him with a nod nonetheless, “Auror Scamander. What can I do for you?”

The younger man flashed a smile at Percival, too wide and sharp for it to be real as he interlocked his fingers in front of him in a meticulous manner, “Stay away from my brother.” and Percival suddenly felt as if his stomach was digesting itself and he felt the rising burn of anger in his chest as he glared at the man before him, who was still smiling sharply at the Director.

“What?” Graves growled out.

“I said: stay away from my brother,” Theseus repeated in the same manner as he had before.

Percival cleared his throat as he glared down at the elder Scamander, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The Wizard snorted rudely as he rolled his eyes, “Come off it, Graves! I’m not blind. I could tell that you had an interest the second you two were in the room together!”

The Director narrowed his eyes, “And you have a problem with this?” he raised a single eyebrow.

“Yes!” Theseus hissed at the other, practically spitting mad, “I don’t appreciate you trying to mess around with my brother-“

“I’m not messing around,” Percival interrupted sharply, glaring daggers at the elder Scamander, who didn’t even flinch under the man’s gaze, “My intentions towards Newt are serious, nor is this your business,” he stressed in a gravelly tone.

“If you have those intentions towards my innocent brother then it is very much my business, Graves,” Theseus leaned forward with his hands bracing Percival’s desk in an act to look intimidating, “Especially as the Head of the Scamander Family. While I would never take ahold of Newt’s life like some Head of Families, I will take charge of his suitors, unwanted or otherwise.”

Percival sighed as he leaned back in his chair, a headache threatening to bloom behind his eyes. While England’s Magical Sector was far older and more influential than that of America’s, some of their laws were odd in Graves’ eyes. One such law was that of the Magical Families and how they operated. The prospect of incest didn’t appeal to Graves at all and was confused by their obsession with ‘purity’ and their racism towards half-bloods and Muggleborns. There was also the fact that the Head of House, or Family, would have complete control over those under their name, from jobs to marriage. If they refused to follow the Head’s orders, then they were expelled from the family and disowned indefinitely. Percival could only be thankful that Theseus was a good man, or he’d have locked Newt up long ago…

“Give me a chance,” Percival negotiated, “If Newt doesn’t want to be with me, I’ll drop the subject. But if he does, you’ll support us.”

Theseus stood there for a moment, a multitude of emotions flashing through his eyes before he settled on a hard stare with pursed lips, “Fine,” he reluctantly relented, “I suppose that’s fair.” With a sigh, Percival nodded as relief flooded his system, only to freeze at Theseus’ next words, “But it’s my main intention to convince Newt to come home. It’s been many years since he’s visited England and I think a little time on home soil will be good for him.”

“You mean good for you.” Percival corrected, jaw clenched as he tried to control his panic at the possibility of Newt leaving with his brother when they’d already made such progress in their friendship.

“Yes,” the British Auror admitted with little hesitation, “Newt used to visit often when he was younger, but as time went on… His interest in England began to decrease. These days, I’d be lucky to see him for a few hours every six months. His stay in America has been Newt’s longest time in one place since after the war, which was why I took the opportunity to come here and see him. I miss him and I worry,” Theseus sighed, as he rubbed his brow, looking far too old for his age, “And, now that his book has taken off, I hope to get him to accept a more permanent job under the Ministry.”

And just like that, Percival’s world was collapsing around him.

The next week, Percival and Theseus were in a state of constant hostility and Percival felt that with every day that went passed, he was losing Newt more and more. He hadn’t answered to his proposal to stay at MACUSA as a Consultant, but he forced himself to look on the bright side as Newt hadn’t answered his brother’s pleas to take a job at the Ministry either. Still, the Director feared that Newt would want to return back to England, despite Queenie Goldstein’s reassurance that he had very little interest in doing so. However, despite the dark cloud hanging over his head that darkened with every time he made eye contact with Theseus, Newt still spent time with him, making his heart feel just a bit lighter.

The Seraphina Picquary had to throw a curveball into everything…

“Gellert Grindelwald wants to talk to Newt Scamander,” she told him, earning his immediate attention.

It took a moment for the words to process before blood drained from his face and he shook his head in a grim-faced, “No. That’s not happening.” he stated with fierceness as he stood up to tower over his desk.

In response, her lips pursed and her dark eyes flashed with irritation, “That isn’t your call to make. That is the decision of Mr Scamander himself. Not you.” she then swept out of his office, the Director nearly scrambling over his desk to catch up with her.

“You can’t ask this of him,” he stated, feeling ice-cold panic build up in his chest like a Dementor’s presence, “He’s not an Auror and furthermore, he’s a victim of Grindelwald’s. How did he even know Newt was in America in the first place?” he questioned as he shut the door behind them in the more secure room.

“He claims that he overheard the guards talking outside of his cell,” Picquary answered before she spoke over Graves in a commanding tone, “It’s being dealt with. And I know Mr Scamander’s not an Auror, but if we don’t try this, then we lose all hope of getting any information out of him about his followers and operations. I know you like him, Percival, but we have no other choice. You never know, maybe he’ll decline.” she offered in a half-hearted attempt to be optimistic, but both knew that Newt wouldn’t decline. Newt was a good man and while his primary concern was his animals, he wasn’t emotionless when it came to the pain and death of others.

And sure enough, Newt agreed against his brother’s and Percival’s better wishes and were making their way towards the Dark Wizard. Looking at Newt, Percival could tell that he was scared to face Grindelwald. The German was a very intimidating man, to face him down in a fight was a death wish - Newt and Percival being two of the few that had ever survived such an encounter. In a thoughtless act, Percival reached over and squeezed Newt’s hand, elation running through him when the red-head turned a warm smile in his direction as he gave Percival a reciprocating squeeze, not letting go the entire walk through the cell-block.

When the doors closed behind Newt and the wards settled into place, Percival felt like his heart was in his throat as they all stood outside of the glass window that was glamoured to be a brick wall from within the cell. Theoretically, it was completely safe for a Prisoner and Visitor to be within the room, but defenceless with the Prisoner tied down and the Visitor safe; the wards kept them contained and the window allowed them to make sure nothing illegal was about to happen. They would be together for a half-hour tops before Newt would be forced to leave the room - hopefully, they’d be able to get this over and done within the next few minutes.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Theseus hissed next to him, dark eyes like burning coals of fury as he looked at Percival, “Now he’s in the same room as that mad man! I thought you liked him?”

“I like him as a love interest, not as his handler,” Percival replied with an even tone as he watched the contained pair look at one another. He gritted his teeth harshly when he saw the clear amusement in Gellert’s eyes as Newt shifted slightly in obvious discomfort and forced himself to turn away from the pair and focus on a glaring Theseus. “Newt is as wild and free as the animals he keeps, which is why they are able to form such a connection with him. If I wanted a way to his heart, I can’t be trying to restrict him and keeping him from things that he’s already decided about - he’s a grown man, not a child. I also have too much respect for him to keep him from doing things that he thinks and knows are right.” Percival finished with an air of finality as he turned away from the gaping form of Theseus and turned back to the viewing window.

“I see you are familiar with this device, Mr Scamander,” Grindelwald started, voice far too silky smooth than it had any right to be after all his time locked away, “Tell me, who put you in such a device?” the German asked as he delicately lifted his chained wrists that suppressed his magic. Honestly, his wrists wouldn’t be as bad as they were if he didn’t keep on trying to use his magic. But Percival felt a jolt of horror and confusion when Newt admitted to having experience with the cuffs. “They tortured you,” Grindelwald observed and Newt steamrolled over the Dark Wizard’s words, confirming his observations more than anything.

Looking beside him, Percival felt aching sympathy for Theseus for it was clear that he had no real idea what his brother generally got up to. The Brit’s face was pale and his eyes were wide with shock and horror as his hand trembled by his side. It was a shock to the system to find out when a family member, one that you strived to love and protect as much as Theseus has tried, had been so horribly and cruelly hurt in the past by the actions of others. The revelation of that knowledge was further tainted by the fact that Newt wasn’t an Auror, but a magizoologist, a career path that wasn’t supposed to attract any kind of danger apart from with a possible attack from a magical creature.

It was concerning and Percival was sure that Newt was going to hear all of Theseus’ thoughts about these new revelations at a later date.

It was hard to just stand there as Grindelwald said that Newt had been failed by a government that was supposed to protect him but only cared to put the blame on his shoulders. Percival wished that he could stand up for their own government, but he’d read the report about what had happened to Credence Barbone and how he was killed and then quickly swept under the rug and largely forgotten as the government as a whole ignored the fact that they’d missed a magical child and left him in a highly abusive home that was bad enough for an obscurous to take root and never even got an opportunity for help from the government that was supposed to protect him. It was a grim truth and it looked like Newt had suffered in that way as well…

The interrogation went on and Newt seemed to be a little more settled the longer it went on. In another life, Percival wondered if Newt would have made a decent Auror if his heart hadn’t been claimed by magical creatures first. But for everything that had been revealed about Newt, much to Theseus’ horror, Percival was starting to get annoyed as Grindelwald dodged the repeated question from Newt time and time again. “What I want, Mr Grindelwald, is for you to answer my question.” Newt suddenly growled out, annoyance plain on his face and surprised the hell out of Percival. Annoyance and anger made the young man’s light green eyes flash brighter with open anger and irritation, making him seem more alive and captivating than he had before, something that woke a fire in Percival’s own gut as he awkwardly coughed and tried to suppress his… problem…

Idle chatter passed between the two as Newt told the German of his own philosophies and beliefs on life all while saying that he’d never turn on his own beliefs to support Grindelwald’s own. Percival couldn’t feel more proud as Newt stared down the Darkest Wizard in history without a single trace of fear on his face.

One moment, Percival was admiring Newt’s strength and beauty in facing his past tormentor, the next there was a flurry of activity and the Director was watching as Grindelwald was firing spell after spell at Newt, a vicious gleam in the psycho’s mismatched eyes as Newt frantically tried to dodge and weave around the continuous attacks. Fear and fury racing through him, Percival marched to the heavily warded door and roared, “Get this open! Now!” before turning away to stare at the mirror.

Percival would have been completely spellbound as Newt dodged - if a bit awkwardly as he fumbled occasionally - and cast wandless and wordless spells to protect himself from the attacking German if he wasn’t so overcome by fear. It took a very powerful and skilled wizard to be able to cast a wandless spell, let alone multiple spells without passing out due to magical exhaustion. Grindelwald seemed far too pleased by this revelation of Newt as the blonde grinned widely with all his teeth as he threw another curse as Newt’s shield, which shattered after the extensive damage it took.

Suddenly, for a split second, Newt became distracted and the German took that opening to subdue the powerful wizard while he had the chance. Percival nearly had a heart attack when Newt was suddenly bound tightly in layers of ropes that obviously caused the young man pain as he struggled and panted against the curse. Panic nearly overcame him when Grindelwald stepped far too close to Newt for comfort and started to touch the magizoologist, the German’s arms wrapping around Newt in a hug that Percival wanted nothing more than to rip apart. When the pale wizard touched his Newt’s face in such a loving and caring manner, Percival Graves wanted to kill that man then and there…

With a bang, the wards finally collapsed and the doors swung open, getting the free back under arrest and getting Newt out of there to see the medi-witch and a Healer for his injuries. All thoughts of maiming and splaying Grindelwald alive in the back of the Director’s mind and near-forgotten as he concentrated solely on Newt and his well being - Theseus being in the exact same state as Percival as he squeezed Newt’s hand as if he’d never let the Hufflepuff go. Elation ran through Percival as Newt offered his other hand, the Director calming his frayed nerves as he ran his thumb over the erratic pulse point that was slowly regaining its steady rhythm, soothed to be close to Newt and reassure himself that he was alive and safe after witnessing such a terrifying event - he ignored Queenie’s smirking face as she read his less than stoic thoughts about their local magizoologist.

As they all recovered in the Medical Wing, Newt suddenly spoke up, “Mr Graves, I accept the position at the MACUSA as the Magical Creatures Consultant. If the offer still stands, that is.” and Percival felt like the worst day of his life was now the best day of his life as his chest swelled with joy, relief and shock at the fact that Newt wanted to stay here, in America, with the MACUSA, with them.

The Director relaxed back in his chair with a small silly grin on his face at the fact that Newt was going to be staying with them. Even with a week later, Percival still couldn’t get over that fact, especially with the horrible confrontation with Grindelwald that he’d been manipulated into, which Percival would have completely understood if Newt never wanted to step foot in America again after that incident. But he said ‘yes’ and the Auror felt like he was on cloud nine!

But, then, there was always the crippling fear of asking Newt if he would like to get drinks. Percival had never been one who was in touch with his emotions and that caused him to be distant, which allowed Grindelwald to impersonate him so well. It was a hard thing for the Director to do as he felt strongly and with everything within him, whether it be a raging storm of hate or a soul glowing warmth of love, but he didn’t know how to express them and so decided not to. His thoughts spiralled as he sat alone in his office, staring into space as thoughts and questions began to overlap in his head, ranging from ‘how am I supposed to ask Newt out?’ to ‘what if he doesn’t like me?’. The thoughts steadily started to get worse-

Knock. Knock.

Blinking out of his suddenly sour mood, Graves turned his attention to the closed door of his office before he sighed and called a polite, “Come in.”

As the door opened, the Director wasn’t surprised when Queenie Goldstein stepped through his door, a shy smile upon her lips as her short golden curls bounced with her peppy walk, she had been a constant presence whenever it came to thinking about Newt. Graves was only thankful that she hadn’t blabbed to the entire Woolworth Building.

“Oh, no, Sir,” she denied softly as she shook her head, “I would never do such a thing, but that doesn’t stop the rest of the Auror Department from figuring it out on their own.”

“All of them?” he questioned in shock with raised eyebrows.

“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’ as she nodded.

Of course, they’d noticed their very serious and frigid boss mooning over their newest addition…

“Great…” he sighed, trying his damnedest not to groan pathetically into his arms. He was completely hopeless… Maybe he should just give up and look at Newt from afar, or something.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, Boss,” Queenie intervened as she placed some files, that she’d been asked to deliver, onto his crowded desk, “If you wait too long, other people might get the idea that Newt’s available. I’ve already heard a few thoughts here and there about how cute he is and it's only picked up now that word has gotten around that he’ll be staying indefinitely.”

Percival suddenly felt like cold water had been dumped over his head as he stared at her. It took a moment to process her words before it finally clicked…

Instantly, the Director was out of his chair and rushing out of his office on long, powerful and fast strides, face set in determination as he made his way towards the lunch hall, where Newt was having a last meal with his brother before Theseus went back to England. He didn’t see the devious smirk that spread over Queenie’s face as she watched him march out of the Auror department, happy that she’d given him a little nudge out the door.

Arriving in the hall at record time, Graves spotted Newt at his usual table to the side, laughing and talking quietly with Theseus as he tore his pastry into small edible bits. Percival didn’t even try to weave around the crowd as he firmly set his target in sight and walked towards Newt like a man on a mission, the crowds of people silently parting and scrabbling to get out of his way, all eyes upon him.

“Newt,” Graves interrupted, face still set in determination as he forced the near-crippling anxiety away and focused on what he wanted to say, “Will you join me for dinner tonight, as a date?” and the whole hall suddenly grew silent as they all watched the table with rabid attention, something that Percival allowed to fade into the background as he concentrated solely on Newt. He did his absolute best to ignore the Theseus, who looked like he was seconds away from setting the Director on fire, as he stared at Newt, willing the magizoologist to say ‘yes’, to find Percival worthy of going on one date with.

For a split second, Percival wondered if this had been such a great idea when Newt gave a positively radiant smile, surprise, relief and happiness making his soft green eyes practically glow, that made Percival feel like his heart was melting. Never before had Percival seen something so beautiful and, at that moment, he knew that he would do anything, absolutely anything, to make Newt smile like that.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after! … I guess…
> 
> Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it!!


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